BG03-The Rescue
by VStarTraveler
Summary: Two Colonial Warriors on a long range recon mission detect a seemingly ancient building on a small moon. They investigate but encounter an unexpected & very unwelcome surprise. When they don't return as expected, a special team is sent to bring the Warriors home, but all may not be as it seems…. Complete!
1. Part 1-Prologue and Chapter 1

**The Rescue**

By VStarTraveler

 _Summary:_

 _Two Colonial Warriors on a long range recon mission detect a seemingly ancient building on a small moon. They investigate but encounter an unexpected & very unwelcome surprise. When they don't return as expected, a special team is sent to bring the Warriors home, but all may not be as it seems…._

 _This story fits in my timeline about six sectars after the events in the Naransay system in my story WARRIOR WITH A BADGE, or a little over two and a half yahrens after the Exodus from the Colonies and the events of my story SAFE-TY SYS-TEM._

'***

 _Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction, written entirely for fun and not for profit. This interpretation of the world of Battlestar Galactica is entirely my own, and Battlestar Galactica and all of its various components remain the property of their respective owners._

 _'***_

 **Prologue:**

Approximately 220 ships capable of interstellar flight came together to form the rag-tag fleet that began the journey across the stars to find the lost thirteenth colony known as Earth. There were many types of ships, from a Battlestar to luxury liners, from freighters to research ships, and from specialty ships to industrial barges.

Most of these ships were modified as time and material allowed to better serve the needs of the crush of humanity that was forced to board them to escape from the Colonies.

One of the simplest modifications, made on nearly every ship in the fleet, was to convert unused space, and in particular, cargo bay space, into dormitories for the shipboard refugees. With the addition of bunks manufactured primarily from materials that had been in transit aboard a couple of the freighters that became part of the fleet, most people were eventually able to find a place to lay their head during their assigned sleep shift, though this didn't always lead to good sleep.

The noise in the dormitories, even during the relative quiet of the assigned sleep shift, was quite distracting for most. In addition, many bunks were assigned to a different person each shift, and the thin air mattresses that substituted for real mattresses and pillows, in many cases, were still not exactly known for their comfort. Then there were the issues of bathroom facilities, kitchens, and exercise areas, among many others, that compounded the problems.

However, due to their particular nature, a few ships could not be easily modified and still perform their primary functions.

One of these was Rashemon Industries Foundry Ship 4, a heavy industrial ship that was largely automated with only a limited human crew. Its usual task was to park in very low stationary orbit around an ore rich asteroid, dispatch its mining craft to the surface to begin gathering ore, and then send its collapsible ore crates down to be filled.

Once on the surface, the ore crates were erected, filled with ore, and then returned to the mothership by a small lift shuttle. Each of the crates was then fastened to the foundry ship's flat deck to be refined into usable materials such as carbon, silicon, iron, nickel, and manganese, but many other trace metals such as copper, silver, gold, and duridium. If properly selected and utilized, very little of an asteroid would be wasted; what little was abandoned was sometimes left on a designated waste asteroid with few useable minerals.

The crates were often stacked many crates high aboard the ship, depending on the processing rate. As crates were emptied, they were collapsed and returned to the asteroid surface or kept in place in storage, awaiting the next mining location. As materials were smelted and converted into usable raw materials, they were often transferred to an accompanying forge ship for manufacture into items used by the Colonies, often in the production of new space ships.

Rashemon Industries Foundry 4 was commonly known within the fleet as the Foundry Ship since it was the only one that survived the Cylon attack, just as Caprica Mining Venture's Vulcan Forge 11 became known within the fleet as the Forge Ship. Though the two ships weren't complimentary models, it didn't take Forge Master Karkarian and the other engineers on the Forge Ship too long to design and make needed modifications so the two ships could link within a system and essentially operate as continuous unit.

Raw ore entered the Foundry Ship, was crushed, initially separated, and smelted, and the various metals were then separated again so the result was various types of pure metals. With these available, varying amounts of metals were used, heated together, and high strength or specialty metals were then created as basic materials in raw block form. These blocks were transferred to the Forge Ship where usable products were made using the multitude of processes available within the ship's giant factory. Other materials were routed to the appropriate ship for use. When complete, the finished products were then shipped to the various ships of the fleet to be used as needed.

Unfortunately, when there were no raw materials available, the Foundry ship essentially shut down with its collapsible crates laid flat, secured to the deck, and the equipment became idle, unused and silent, because it was just too complicated and expensive to be used for other purposes.

'***

 **Chapter 1:**

 _Our little ship shakes violently as it drops toward the surface. Even being tightly harnessed to the seat, it's all I can do to hold on, to keep from being thrown against the straps or maybe even across the compartment. My knuckles are white from gripping the seat rails so tightly. At least, I think they are white. The enviro-gauntlets on my hands and the red mission light overhead keep me from seeing them anyway._

 _Oh! Please! Stop with the shaking!_

 _They told us in the mission briefing that the approach might be rough, that this fuzzball's atmosphere might give us some trouble, that we might feel a little queasy before we hit the drop._

 _They GROSSLY under exaggerated!_

 _Several of my fellow Warriors have already lost their dinner, and mine's felt like it was about to go several times. I'm hoping we'll be down soon before—_

 _Oh, another shake—frack! Number One watches me intently then laughs heartily as I join the ranks of the lost supper club. Fortunately, I am able to get the barf bag open and dispense the contents of my stomach mostly into it, unlike Number Three, who looks so ill that he doesn't seem to care that he has it all over his legs and boots. The crew aboard the Galactica will really love us when we return from this mission. Hopefully, a little vomit is all they'll have to clean up._

 _Number One is still sneaking peeks at me, grinning as he does, and it doesn't look like the turbulence is bothering him in the least. Oh! I really do hate him sometimes!_

 _There are six of us in the back of a small drop ship, a special shuttle capable of carrying up to twelve personnel plus the two pilots and a pair of weaponsmasters who can lay down heavy rates of fire in almost all directions as well as operating the onboard missile systems. It's a phenomenally capable ship, but like most things in the Colonial Fleet, we don't have nearly enough of them._

 _I wipe my face as the ship shakes violently once again. Concentrating as we've been taught, I steel myself against the turbulence, against the fear of what we will face. I need that badly since this is my first assault mission._

 _We've been assigned to go in and rescue two Warriors who were captured a cycle or two ago while scoping out an ancient building—a factory, they think due to some strange equipment they saw—of some type found on a small moon in our current system, the name of which I can't even remember. Timora-something? Whatever. Anyway, our Warriors were able to send out word that they'd run into some stiff opposition - Cylons, apparently - but we were told that they couldn't see them and that the firepower and tactics being used were extremely advanced for Cylons._

 _We believe they ended up getting captured, but that, like so much of the story we've heard, really can't be confirmed, so we're not sure what we're going to face. I'm half scared to death and would feel so much better about this if Captain Apollo or Lieutenant Starbuck was here, but they seemed to think Number One was the right person for the job. If only he'd quit looking at me!_

 _The mission briefers on the Galactica told us that our Warriors could well be dead, and that the Cylon/captor guys could have been the ones to have activated the emergency beacon, but we're sure hoping that's not the case. We want to bring our guys home alive. Captain Apollo then told us that multiple shots against these guys had supposedly proved less effective than usual, so the armorers were making special modifications to all of our rifles, blasters, and hand mines just before we left so we'll have a better chance versus them._

 _The Captain also said that the equipment may prove to be VERY important since it's so old and probably of alien origin, so we were to be very careful and avoid damaging it. He rolled his eyes when he gave that order, since he's told us no telling how many times in training sessions in the past how important it is not to be too constrained when we're going into a fight. Lieutenant Starbuck usually says it even better, putting it in terms everyone can understand, saying something like, "Kill what needs to be killed and break what needs to be broken to save every human life possible. Things can be repaired or replaced over time, but people—well, that's different."_

 _I think I was the only one to pick up on how different this was than what the Captain and Lieutenant Starbuck have said in the past, but I did notice Wally nodding his head like he knew just what Captain Apollo meant. Or maybe he was just brownnosing. He does that occasionally._

 _Captain Apollo also said that our boys, in the only message they got out, also indicated that they were pinned down and unable to move. We've learned that doing that is the kiss of death versus Cylons or just about any other creature that uses weapons. Since this is my first time, I'm scared to death but am desperately trying to remain calm since two brave Warriors are depending on us to rescue them and bring them home alive. We just hope that they are still alive and that we'll be there in time for them._

 _I'm dressed in rather ill-fitting Colonial Marine-issue heavy assault armor since I haven't yet been fitted for the similar Colonial Warrior version. Lieutenant Starbuck had to help find some of the pieces in a storage closet. At least the stupid gauntlets fit right! The lieutenant promised me that I'll be fitted for new armor as soon as we have the resources to make more._

 _I wipe the last little gobbet from my suit and see Number One grinning at me. I wrinkle my nose at him, partially from the smell but mostly because I want to, and give him the tip of my tongue for just a millimicron, being careful that no one catches me since, technically, we're not supposed to be on a mission together. When you're dating, that's supposed to be a huge no-no! Still, we've seen it happen a few times, so we haven't told anyone yet._

 _Number One is now up, speaking with the pilots, and he's turning back to us. He activates his comm unit so we all hear him in our earpieces, "Okay, Warriors! It's that time! We've got some friends to rescue. Let's bring them home! Affix helmets and check your breathing mix. The atmosphere at the landing pad will be low, and we're not sure about inside the old building. Test when you're locked down."_

 _I get the helmet in place, activate the lock, and start the air flow. It looks good, so I key the sequence so the little green light activates. A moment later, we're all ready. Number One's voice comes in again, "We'll be down in less than 90 microns…60 microns…30 microns, weapons in arms…15 microns, activate weapons…five, four, three, two, one—GO! GO! GO!"_

 _I jump out the open door of the drop ship and run five metrons in the assigned direction before dropping and covering the factory ahead._

 _The lights of the drop ship are blinding, even from behind me, but they make it easy to see a dome shaped building ahead of me, with a vertical wall on the front and some large tanks off to the right. Everything else is dark; even the stars in the sky above the moon are obscured, either by the clouds or by the brightness of all the lights._

 _The ground is covered with steel plates with projections, so it's a dangerous run. We sure don't want to fall, crack a faceplate, and die of asphyxiation in whatever toxic atmosphere this Lords forsaken place has. Number One is giving orders; within microns, we hit the assigned door and enter the building._

 _'***_

 _I have my Mark 4 plasma assault rifle at the ready as I move in and dodge to the left side. I'm sweeping up and ahead, but not seeing anything in my sights. I make it to some of that all-fire special alien equipment. Maybe we aren't supposed to damage it, but I'm not going to go without cover if I have this stuff available. Hmm, it's weird, it doesn't look all that alien—_

 _Before I can even finish my thought, all Hades breaks loose just ahead and to the right of me! There's fire from what appears to be a catwalk over and ahead, fire from the right and fire from behind something dead ahead._

 _I see someone, Six, I think, take a shot to the chest and pitch backward. The Number Six comm link on my head's up display goes dead. Frack!_

 _I see flashes of silver where the firing is coming from the catwalk thing, so I train my sights there and take a shot at what I now see is definitely a Cylon Centurion. I follow up with a second shot as we've been trained._

 _Holy Lords! I'm a good shot, probably better than anyone here except my boyfriend, and I see that I hit it, hard. That shot should have blown its arm off and probably killed it, but, no! The mission briefers were right, these guys are very tough! It's still firing as if my plasma blast didn't even affect it in the least._

 _I hear Number One ordering suppression fire as Two and Three run forward. I'm blasting away at Catwalk Bastard, hitting him several more times without apparent effect, so I switch up, alternating pairs of shots at him with shots at Ground Guy in front of us, hoping that something works and that the rounds distract them enough that the guys can advance to cover as planned. It will be my turn in a moment._

 _Suddenly, I see Two take a blast from off to the left and go sprawling, just before he reached cover, and then his comm link blipped out on the HUD, too._

 _NO! Not another one!_

 _I switch aim to the left and fire off several rapid shots, trying to find the source of the new fire, but like an idiot, I realize now that I've given the new assailant my location without locating him first. Now, it's too late. Suddenly, streaks are coming in at me from the left, from overhead, from straight ahead, and from Rightie Robot._

 _I take what cover I can, but then realize I've violated another basic tenant of our training. I'm completely pinned down with nowhere to go, and can't even take a shot without being hit. I do the only thing I can, the unexpected, rolling to the right while firing ahead at Ground Guy since that's the only target I might even possibly hit._

 _I hear Number One screaming at me to "ROLL ROLL ROLL, NUMBER FOUR!"_

 _He's ordering suppressing fire but with only three Warriors laying it down and far too many targets, it's only a matter of time._

 _Just before I reach the group, I see a blinding flash from above and left, an entirely new location, and then I feel it hit me in the chest. It's a pain unlike anything I've ever felt and I'm unable to move further, unable to breathe, barely able to think._

 _Lying on the factory floor looking up the side of a piece of equipment, as consciousness begins to depart and the cold blackness of death starts to envelop me, my brain briefly registers something and I only have time to think "HOLY FRACK! NOOO!" before I die._

'***


	2. Part 2-Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

 _Some time earlier…._

The gas giant was the largest in the system and would have almost completely filled the view from their cockpit canopies, but both Vipers orbiting the planet were facing outward since it wasn't the focus of the current mission. Instead, both pilots had their views fixed on the next in the series of moons orbiting the planet that they were visiting.

Since the fleet's arrival in the system, the commander had ordered a number of long range recon missions to scout the system for Cylons or other activity and to scan each body for resource content. So far, the patrol had scanned the giant and the first fifteen moons, and number sixteen was slowly coming into view. Due to the size of the gas giant and its distance from the star, the moon was currently in the umbra, the deep shadow cast by the giant, since its near equatorial orbit carried it directly behind the planet for part of its orbit. However, its calculated trajectory showed that it would be emerging into the twilight of penumbra shortly and then directly into the rays of the distant star almost immediately after that.

"Trent, are you picking up anything? It looks like an oversized lump of coal to me."

"Scanner is showing that it definitely has some carbon content, but I think the shadow is what's giving you that impression, Hamm. I'm picking up a higher content of silicates and other minerals, but the surface is so rough that I'm having a hard time keeping a beam on it. It looks like there's some ice and a thin atmosphere, too, so they're helping refract the scan. Are you getting anything on long range?"

"Nah," Hamm replied, "just the forty-leventh chunk in line after this one. Seriously, I think that will be number 17 or 18, but we'll be on this survey for several more cycles if we keep finding them at this rate. Fortunately, it says we covered almost 70 percent of the orbit, so hopefully, we won't find a mob of moons in this last part of the arc. No slew of satellites for us! Please, Lords!"

Trent laughed lightly at his wingmate's antics. They'd been together working together for a good while so he was used to his silly word plays.

The two Vipers continued closing on the nearby moon for the next centar, with both Warriors performing their assigned jobs as the moon entered the star's full light. Just before they went into the first of an estimated 12 polar orbits around Sixteen, Trent adjusted his readings to scan a wide swath of the sphere while Hamm switched to visually recording the surface. There was a thin atmosphere around the planetoid, so they stayed just above it for their scan. At their speed, the rough ground on the moon below was speeding by.

Midway through the fifth orbit, Trent hit the short range ship-to-ship transmitter again, "Hamm, I'm picking up something ahead. It appears to be metallic, on the side of one of the mountains."

"Pick a mountain, any mountain, too darn many mountains!" griped Hamm.

Closing on the location, they zoomed in to see a distinctly alien looking building of a shiny black metal, with what appeared to be a large landing pad in front, jutting off the face of the mountain. Though both poles appeared to be relatively level ice fields covering large areas, this was the only level spot that they'd seen anywhere near the equator on the entire world, but even it wasn't perfect. As they were passing overhead, they saw that approximately half of the pad area had collapsed, and was hanging down the side of the mountain. As they started moving away, they noted that there were no lights, no signals of life or activity, nothing but a seemingly ancient otherworldly edifice that time had forgotten.

"Well, that was interesting," said Trent. "I wonder who put that there, and how long it's been there."

Hamm laughed, "You would! I wonder if there's anything we can salvage from it. New ship designs, great new energy sources, ten thousand yahren old ambrosa, pop-up dancing girls." Trent laughed at the last two references, the source of an old joke between them, and they both returned to their mapping observations.

Two orbits later, Trent's sensor went off at the same time Hamm cut in to interrupt him—"One! Three bogies! 7 o'clock low, coming up fast!"

"Got them," replied Trent. "Let's go Beta Three!"

"Gotcha!"

In a well polished maneuver, they hit their turbothrusters for three microns, then did a quick pull up with thrusters on, bringing them back in line with the approaching Cylons before they could exit the atmosphere. Firing their turbo lasers, the first Raider became a fireball that streaked across the sky for a moment before beginning its fiery descent toward the moon.

The other two Raiders split, leaving Hamm the follow-up shot he wanted on the left one. The plasma blast hit the Raider's right engine, exploding it, and sending the Raider into an unevenly powered spin toward the ground below. The Centurions inside the craft struggled to right it, but it was too badly damaged, and moments later, the ship smashed into the side of one of the moon's mountains, exploding on impact.

"Hamm, the third one's the pro! He's good!" said Trent as he rolled and cut tight to avoid three successive blasts that passed just behind him. Having dived down on the approaching Raiders and lacking time to regain altitude, he realized he was now too close to the planetoid to use many of the usual tricks. The trailing Raider was now laying down a slow but steady stream of fire above him to prevent him from climbing further into space where he would maximize his maneuverability.

"Could really use some help here, Hamm!" he called.

"On him!" replied Hamm as he realigned his craft to take his shot.

Just as he got a lock and hit the turbolasers, the Cylon succeeded in making a final adjustment, locking onto his Viper prey, and loosed another round of shots. Trent felt his ship shake violently as his top engine turned to slag, along with part of the vertical fin. He cut the fuel to the damaged engine, trying to avoid a follow-up explosion and possible further damage as the Raider behind him disintegrated into pieces that rained down onto the moon below.

"Trent, you okay, buddy?" asked Hamm, sliding in behind and to the side of Trent's Viper. He started a slow maneuver behind and around his friend, viewing the damage from all sides.

"I'm here, but my Viper has definitely seen better times. It flies like I'm maneuvering through some bad mushie soup, with only partial power to both of the engines I have left—hold on—frack, now it's showing that I have a fuel leak, too."

"Hmm. We got them all," replied Hamm, finishing his inspection, "but that last one did a real number on you, too. Your ship won't make it home like that, so we need to set down to patch that leak and see if we can restore at least some of your power. That might give us a fighting chance if we run into any more tinheads. Where in the Twelve Worlds did those guys come from, anyway?"

"No clue, but their trajectories weren't from anywhere close to that old building we saw. Hamm, take the data and scoot back to the ship. I'll swing over to that landing pad and hunker down there. You can have a Viper wing back with a rescue ship for me by breakfast time," said Trent as his right engine seemed to shake for a few microns.

"Not a chance, my friend. Let's do a tight beam data dump back to the ship, then let's scamper back to that alien looking building like you said. Since the Cylons weren't coming from that direction, hopefully they haven't found it yet. We can use its landing pad out front and we won't have to land on the side of one of those mountains or in one of those polar snow fields where we might sink! And say, we may get to check out that ancient ambrosa and those pop-up dancing girls yet!"

'***

About twenty centons later, both Vipers settled on the pad in front of the ancient, alien building. From the ground, both the pad and the building looked like they had seen better millennia, though the strange black metal showed no signs of corrosion on either. The pad, seeming flat and level from above, was badly dented in numerous places, and it sloped slightly away from the building. The face of the structure appeared to have partially collapsed inward, leaving what appeared to be several small openings. Both Warriors donned enviro-suits with a full helmet due to the cold, the low air pressure, and the noxious gases that made up the moon's thin atmosphere, and then climbed down from their Vipers. They approached the largest visible opening with their blasters drawn and peered into the blackness inside. Due to the moon's rotation, it appeared that night was about to fall in this area of the satellite.

"Based on what we saw from orbit, we'll get some bluish glow from the gas giant," said Trent, "but I wouldn't count on it being of great help. Let's make sure we're not about to have an unwelcome welcoming committee, then find your ambrosa and pop-up girls and see if we can get my Viper fixed so we can get off this rock!"

The scanners detected nothing in the building, and night vision equipment was revealing nothing due to the low temperature, so Hamm held up a handlight questioningly and Trent reluctantly nodded. Nothing like having to give away any possible element of surprise to potential opponents just so you can see if there are any such opponents, Trent groused to himself. Holding the handlight cross handed with his blaster supported on his forearm, Hamm activated the light.

There appeared to be equipment of some unknown type in various locations around the large room, but what was most immediately noticeable was the dust, which seemed to cover everything like a blanket. With the room largely protected from the winds outside, the small holes in the wall allowed dust to enter and then settle in the interior calm. Both men started forward slowly, with Hamm using his toe to part the dust enough to be certain there was actually solid floor before putting down any significant weight and committing to the step. Seeing nothing so far and needing to explore more efficiently, Trent activated his handlight, too.

Using the unknown equipment for cover and the light to lead the way, they went about 20 metrons into the building, detecting no significant differences as they went, though the dust was much thinner as they moved further into the building. Trent shot a few images of the equipment and surroundings as they went, still looking intently for any possible opposition, but finding none.

About ten metrons from what appeared to be the rear wall of the building, Hamm suddenly gave the signal to stop. When he did, he eased into a squat and seemed to be even more alert. Trent followed suit, wondering what his wingmate had seen, when Hamm slowly swiveled the light beam down on the dust on the floor just in front of him. Trent was puzzled for a moment until, into his view, came the still crisp and rather distinct footprint of a Cylon Centurion!

'***


	3. Part 3-Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

 _Two cycles after the events on Delta Sixteen…._

The mission officer continued with the briefing, "We got another scrambled comm burst from them a little over a centar later. They landed at the building and discovered what was believed to possibly be Cylon activity inside. They started to withdraw when they came under fire, so they sent another rather garbled message saying that they were engaged with three or four tough Cylons, but were running low on plasma charges for their blasters, and, if it came down to it, they would activate the self destruct sequence on their Vipers. That was the last we heard from them."

There was a stir in the room as the audience realized that their friends might be dead. The captain raised a hand and the mission officer carried on.

"Therefore, we dispatched a six person rescue team last cycle. They got to the site, found the remains of two Vipers, and entered the ancient building to rescue our Warriors; unfortunately, things didn't go well. They ran into really heavy opposition, much heavier than was expected, and lost several people. They were only saved when the weaponsmasters on their drop ship blew more holes into the front wall of the building and really rained fire down on the tinheads in the room. That gave them the upper hand; the team was then able to withdraw, bringing out three fatalities, but then the Cylons started shooting again. Another of our guys was wounded as they were pulling the last body out."

The officer paused for a moment and put an image of the building on the screen. There was a small X near the back.

"The only good news is that the team leader's sensor detected some fuzzy life signs deeper in the building. He was able to stop for a moment while laying down fire, get a first reading, and then shift to a second spot and get another so it was possible to triangulate the approximate location." Pointing to the image, he said, "It's somewhere near that X. Shot to pieces as they were, though, they didn't have the means to go back in and try to rescue our boys at that point, so they got away from the moon to let us know what they found. This is where you come in."

'***

Urdea, like most of the other people in the briefing, had listened to the tale and then immediately volunteered to be part of the rescue party. A number were chosen, including Urdea and his friend Phideas, and the rest were dismissed so the more in-depth rescue mission briefing could be conducted.

Now, several centars later as Drop Ship 3 began its descent into the atmosphere and started the undulations associated with entry, Urdea hoped that they'd be able to get in and rescue their guys without taking too much damage. As for it being the right decision to volunteer, he knew that it was the only decision he could make. He'd be there for Trent and Hamm, just like they'd be there for him if the situation was reversed.

Learning from the first attempt, the Commander had ordered the team to study the location carefully and to storm in with overwhelming force.

The briefing officer had shown images of the area, including the landing zone, which would be tight due to the size of the remaining pad—part appeared to have collapsed down the side of the mountain. The exposed portion of the curved roof, which seemed to jut out from the mountain, was too steep for landing either troops or ships, except for the relatively flat part at the very top. Unfortunately, it wasn't known if the structure would support a ship, or really, even a person for that matter. If an individual disembarked and didn't fall through the roof, they would then have to avoid sliding or even falling off. They would still have to get down to the landing pad level or enter through a hole in the building face and then still get down to the floor. Neither of these was felt to be a particularly good option, especially if the Cylons were shooting back!

Therefore, the task group had come in from around the planet as planned, with eight Vipers providing aerial and spatial support, to the dark side of the moon. Now, they were descending through the atmosphere on that dark side.

Due to the moon's rotation and its revolution about the gas giant, the attack would be beginning just a bit before the lunar dawn to provide the maximum chance of surprise, though Cylon short range sensors were said to be almost as good in the darkness as during the daylight. The approach would be low, through the valleys between the mountains, and fast to give the Cylons as little time as possible once the ships became visible. Urdea looked at the counter; they were less than ten centons away.

Other than the building area and pad, the mission briefers had said that there didn't appear to be any other signs of activity associated with intelligent life on the mountain. With Cylons around, there might well be some, but there were no visible signs of sensors, lookouts, or other non-natural activity.

One of the briefers had spoken up at that point, focusing in on and enlarging a small area further down and part way around the side of the mountain from the main building. There was a dark image that Urdea assumed to be shadow, but which the briefing officer said was actually a wet streak down the side of the mountain. She said it was from an apparent cave opening which seemed to indicate some type of periodic flow of water or some type of fluid down the side of the mountain into the valley below. It wasn't known if this had to do with the alien building farther up the mountain that the team would be invading, or if it was some type of natural phenomenon. Either way, the mountain itself was quite steep, so the front pad was really their only landing option.

Like the other eleven troops in Urdea's ship, he was dressed in heavy assault armor with a built-in air supply and scrubber system. His helmet was resting beside him, ready to be sealed in place momentarily. The suit also had a built-in food and water dispensing unit, which could be recharged from the supply in his backpack, and variable lighting.

While some of the troops carried specialized weapons, Urdea's Mark 3.5 plasma assault rifle was in his hand, and a blaster pistol and spare ammo for both weapons, four hand mines, two smokers and three flares, and a spare handlight were affixed on his utility belt.

On his back, he carried a large pack, which housed a spare breathing tank, more spare plasma packs and hand mines, three high explosive devices, the spare food and water, medical supplies, and several pieces of specialized equipment. While rather bulky, at least it was light. The gas giant, code named Delta for its placement from the star, was huge, but Moon 16 was relatively small in comparison, with its gravity said to be somewhat less than 30 percent of standard.

The ships continued through the turbulence in the darkness, but the pilots could see the faint glow ahead of the coming dawn. The ship was expected to be at the landing pad within five centons.

The briefing officers had said that there didn't appear to be any precipitation in the area, though a type of chemical ice or possibly snow had been observed at the lunar poles. Winds had been expected to be relatively mild in the subfreezing lunar night, though as the ship approached the zone between dark and light, between cold and somewhat less cold, they'd been told that they would probably increase.

 _That seems to be happening now, and a bit worse than expected_ , thought Urdea, with the ship shaking more violently as it approached the dawn zone and as it entered the upper part of the mountain valleys. Regarding the cold, the star's rays were even expected to bring the satellite to a few degrees above freezing as the lunar day progressed, though it was hoped that the mission would be over and the team long gone before that occurred.

With less than two centons to go, Urdea finished attaching the helmet in place and running through all the checks. Then, he silently reviewed the plan once more.

Drop Ships 1 and 2, commonly known as DS1 and DS2, would begin the actual assault by swooping in low and firing to enlarge the holes from the previous attack, and then pour in cover fire during the troop landing. DS3 and DS4 were assigned this part of the mission, each loaded to capacity with twelve troops. To get these ships into support positions faster for the weaponsmasters to be able to add their weapons fire on potential enemies, the assault force would drop from the shuttles from about 3 to 4 metrons rather than landing and jumping out on the pad itself. With the light gravity, they'd come down gently and be on their way.

When the troops were down, DS2 would drop to the landing pad and deposit a Colonial Trooper LAMAV. The light assault mobile artillery vehicle would be able to enter the building and better direct fire on opponents inside.

DS1 would serve as the command and communication center for Captain Andotov and two aides, while also serving as the group's reserve, with four additional assault team members aboard and two med techs available to treat wounds. The troops would go in, engage and take out or at least pin the Cylons, then a small group would move into the next room, find and free the prisoners, and escape the way from which the rescuers had come.

That was the plan. Seeing time was almost up, Urdea said a brief, silent prayer for courage and that all would go as planned. He'd done this enough to know that it rarely did, but he was also experienced enough that he wasn't worried about being a little afraid of what was to come. Appending his prayer, he added, _Lords, please help me do my best to bring our friends home safely._

Captain Andotov's voice cut into Urdea's comm earpiece once again, "Approaching the target. Commence battle plan in….ten microns nine, eight, seven…."

Moments later, the assault began.

The troops aboard DS3 held on tight as it moved into position, but they were surprised when their drop was delayed first for several microns, and then for almost a centon. Then it was finally time.

"Go! Go! Go! Go!" came the call.

When his turn came a few microns later, Urdea stepped out of the hatch and dropped into the firestorm below.

'***


	4. Part 4-Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:**

 _At a secret polar location on Delta 16:_

Moments after the attack on the alien building began, a signal reached the Cylon attack wing's commander as he sat in suspended mode within his Raider. An audible "whezzzzhw" sounded as his red sensor activated. Neither having been stuck in this spot on the frigid moon for the past two sectars nor the cold itself affected him in the least. Focusing on the small viewscreen for the second time in just over a cycle, he said, "Intendant, report."

A Cylon science model robot focused straight on the viewscreen said, "By your command. The Colonials have returned in greater numbers just as you predicted. Their battlestar has not been located on our facility's sensors, though I think you know that our facility has other, more important tasks and that long range sensors were deliberately minimized to help us avoid detection. Those limited sensors we have show that they do have a number of Viper fighters overhead, so we do not think the Colonial battlestar is too far away."

The gold Centurion looked at the image on the screen and said, "Intendant, it is not your duty to think of such things beyond your scope, only to obey. Continue to perform your assigned task as ordered. We will take care of those in the skies, and will let you know when to proceed with your next phase."

The intendant maintained a steady gaze at the screen and replied, "By your command."

'***

From above, it would have appeared to even a trained observer, had one been present, to be a relatively flat snowscape, with the minor undulations that are so common to such a scene on most any world where snow, of whatever type, is present. However, that same hypothetical observer would most likely have been a bit surprised to suddenly see five evenly spaced rows of three evenly spaced spots began to glow just below the moon's surface, and three short stripes glowing in front of them. Indeed, the brightness increased over the next few microns as the hidden ships' externally directed heat melted off their thin plastic-like coverings and the light dusting of the chemical snow that camouflaged each of them so well, just as broad, flat heat strips melted the coverings over the short runways in front of them. Though the ships, similar to the Colonials' Vipers, were capable of making vertical takeoffs and landings, they conserved a great deal of fuel when operating in short takeoff (or landing) mode, particularly when operating in a gravity well like on a planet or a moon, so the Cylons had planned accordingly.

However, as there was no one overhead, trained or otherwise, to witness the event, the Cylon commander confirmed that all was prepared within less than a centon, and five wings of Cylons Raiders raced down the short runways sight unseen to almost leap into the sky.

'***

 _ **Author's Note:** Many thanks to all who are reading this story. Reviews are welcomed and greatly encouraged, so please let me know what you think. Thanks!_


	5. Part 5-Chapter 5

**Chapter 5:**

 _Just outside the alien building on Delta 16:_

It was only a matter of a few metrons and only about a micron of time, but even as he was on his jump down from the drop ship, Urdea witnessed the carnage and firing seemingly all around him. It appeared that the carefully crafted battle plan had been shot to pieces even before it could be fully implemented.

While he wasn't aware of the exact details of how it had happened, he saw the result of how a hidden Cylon battery located a little way up and a little way around the side of the mountain had popped open and opened fire on Drop Ship 1 as it was making its initial blasts on the front wall of the building. DS1, trailing thick black smoke but still under power, had gone down on the pad with great force, effectively destroying the ship and clogging the landing zone with debris.

The Cylons inside the building then opened fire just as the first survivors attempted to emerge from the wreckage. Fortunately, the weaponsmasters on DS2 returned their fire, distracting the Cylons enough so the still able-bodied within the wreck could help extract the wounded.

While he couldn't see the exact spot nor know the exact cause, a plume of smoke marked what Urdea suspected was the former location of the Cylon installation responsible for the carnage. He offered an ever-so-brief unsaid thank you to the Warriors in the Vipers overhead for their efforts.

Once on the pad, Urdea glanced around for a micron or two to get his bearings as he deployed his Mark 3.5 rifle, and then opened fire on one of the wall openings from which he saw Cylon fire originating. At that moment, his external microphones detected another muffled explosion in the distance. From its relative location, seemingly up and off to the right, Urdea suspected that it was another tinhead battery of some type taken out of action by one of the Vipers streaking overhead.

What appeared to be Captain Andotov was being dragged from the hulk of the crashed ship by a surviving Med Tech and being pulled behind the ship to shield him from the Cylons' fire. His armored suit had a big tear along the side, but it had been apparently patched with an adhesive patch and flex tape. The briefers had noted that even with a bad rupture in a suit, one would have up to a centon or so to get it patched before one would be expected to lose consciousness, and if the helmet wasn't damaged, possibly several centons. They weren't sure how long it would take before death followed, but Urdea hoped they got him in time and that no one else would have to deal with that.

The surviving, though apparently wounded, weaponsmaster on DS1 was busy detaching the turbolaser cannon from the accessible side of the ship even as another Med Tech was injecting the damaged leg of the weaponsmaster's suit with a thick medicinal foam that would, hopefully, stanch the bleeding and seal the leaks in the suit. When he finished with the injection, he slapped one of the adhesive patches over it to be sure.

As Urdea fired again, he was able to confirm through the firing pattern and the brief flashes of shiny metal that there were at least three Cylons in the opening, firing out at the now descending Colonials from DS4 and those moving forward, so Urdea hurled an activated hand mine into the gap. The explosion a moment later ended any opposition from that point, and Urdea, Phideas, Marchuk, and the rest of Squad 1 moved forward to anchor that opening and the smaller openings nearby.

The last of the troops, a mix of Colonial Warrior and Colonial Marine volunteers, were down from DS4 by that point, and they, too, charged toward the openings into the building, firing as they went, killing the last couple of Centurions visible through the front wall. A couple hung back and did a perimeter sweep of the platform with angled mirrors, making sure there were no Cylons hanging on the side or hiding under it, waiting to spring out on the Colonials at an unexpected moment, or any visible Cylon explosives.

"All troops, this is Lieutenant Mionicles. The Cap is alive but down for the count, so I'm taking command. Plan Alpha is shot, repeat shot. We can't land DS2 to disembark the LAMAV—the pad is just too cluttered and potentially unstable—so Sergeant Gronicus will be assisting with the turbolaser from One instead. He's just about got it detached—done? Yes, he's got it. Squads 1, 2, and 3, will move forward per Plan Beta. Sarge will cover as best as he can from that large opening. Squad 4, assume covering positions Zeta. All squads, get into stage position, and be ready to move on my command."

There was a brief pause as the last troops took their positions, then Mionicles said, "On my mark…Go!"

Four smokers were chucked into the openings to provide cover for those entering, and Sarge opened up with the turbolaser that he rested on a broken part of the wall. It was too large for the wounded man to carry any distance, but for this purpose, it was a massive distraction and was massively successful. With a few blasts, he cleared several Cylons from some type of catwalk overhead, and then sent a couple more against points of fire in the distance.

Urdea took cover behind what appeared to be some type of device from an alien nightmare. It looked like a type of machine, but was unlike anything with which he was familiar. Still, it appeared to provide decent cover. With Phideas and Marchuk providing covering fire, he advanced to the next device and returned the favor as Phideas advanced to the neighboring device. Lieutenant Mionicles with the remainder of Squad 1 did the same, and Squads 2 and 3 seemed to be having similar success on each flank. Things were going well...until, moments later, when they weren't.

That was when Plan B joined Plan A in the trash heap, with a Cylon surface mine hidden below a piece of equipment exploding, killing Lieutenant Mionicles and one of the other assault troops next to him as they used that particular piece of equipment as cover. The comm system patched through his gear was damaged in the explosion, leaving the troops to temporarily communicate by line of sight hand signals or verbally by direct contact, while a Tech on Ship 2 rerouted the system and worked to bring local and command channels back on line. A second explosion on the right and a sudden increase in Cylon firepower made the group realize the Cylons had seemingly rigged the area to reel the Colonials in and then trap them.

However, just as the Colonial plans hadn't gone as anticipated, neither did the apparent Cylon plan. They hadn't counted on Weaponsmaster Gronicus, who proved his worth many times as he used the turbolaser from DS1 to eliminate or at least disrupt substantial Cylon resistance. As he was doing this, Lieutenant Xercleon, on the left side of the assault in Squad 2, believing he was next in command and not understanding about the surface mines, signaled his troops forward to engage and take out or at least pin the Cylons. Unfortunately, Lieutenant Demeter, on the right side with a gash in his suit from the second explosion and unable to get through to Xercleon and therefore believing him dead, assumed that he was in command as well, so he signaled his Squad 3 troops on his wing to drop back and look for any more mines while he reestablished communications with everyone and coordinated the battle plan.

Somewhere in the swirling dust near the middle of the battle, Urdea, Phideas, Marchuk, and Reltan, the other surviving member of Squad 1, were blasting away at anything that moved in front of them. Without communications and unable to see the order signals from either side of them, they didn't know the exact conditions or that the battle plan had been changed essentially by default. Upon seeing, through a brief break in the dust, an opening toward what appeared to be a hall in the direction where the prisoners were believed to be being held, Urdea leaned his helmet against Marchuk's and shouted, "Tell them we've got an opening and we're taking it! Cover us, we'll be back shortly!"

Signaling Phideas, the two men charged forward toward the opening. With their plasma rifles at the ready, they took out two Cylons guards firing from just inside the opening and a third nearby. As they ran forward, Urdea noticed that the last pieces of the alien equipment they were passing were no longer on the floor as they had been in earlier areas. These were on some type of moving crates of apparently Cylon design. To Urdea, it appeared that the Cylons were in the middle of removing the alien technology! That could be real trouble, but he was unable to dwell on it right then.

At the same time they charged forward, the Cylons on the Colonial right began to move forward to take the ground given up by Lieutenant Demeter's squad. With the flanking maneuver detected just in time, Marchuk and Reltan had to withdraw to keep from being cut off. A couple of reserves from Squad 4 moved up to help, and the situation stabilized. However, with the lack of communications, the rifle and blaster fire and other noises their suits sensors were picking up, the dust, and the primary concern over the possibility of more tinheads ahead, neither Urdea nor Phideas saw what was happening in the battle as they charged into the corridor.

'***


	6. Part 6-Interlude and Chapter 6

**_Interlude:_**

 _I was never very religious, so I didn't put a lot of credence into what I always thought were old wives' tales; however, my admittedly incomplete understanding of death is that, at minimum, it is supposed to be a peaceful release from the aches and pains and troubles of life. Beyond that, some of the religious types even talked about a wonderful place they call Heaven, where those who lived a life of exemplary goodness would go and live forever, sitting on clouds, dodging flying babies, playing harps, and drinking crystal ambrosa, perhaps even getting wings and halos themselves._

 _Personally, babies always meant babysitting and dirty diapers to me, and while I learned to play the keyboard and got to be pretty good at it, I always thought harp music really sucked. Therefore, I never really cared about trying to be Miss Perfect Goody Goody._

 _Still, I thought I lived my life well enough to avoid the other legend, the place the religious clerics called Hades, or sometimes Hel. In their stories, disgustingly, outrageously evil people like Lord Baltar would, on their eventual passing, be sentenced to an eternal afterlife of constant pain and suffering in a realm where they would forever endure their most hated or most feared activity. The religious types usually used fire as their primary example, where the evil ones would be cast into a burning lake. There they would have to struggle to keep from drowning and to keep from being burned alive._

 _I can't imagine constantly struggling to keep my head above water so I could breathe while being on fire but never burning up; it just sounds so bad! However, personally, I always pictured Hades as a place where I would have to sit around forever on a cloud swatting away flying babies like swamp gnats and playing nonstop harp music…._

'***

 **Chapter 6:**

The corridor, about three metrons wide, went along for about five metrons before being interrupted by a pair of large double doors which appeared to be somewhat out of place in comparison to what the Warriors had seen so far in the ancient facility. These doors were of an entirely different metal and seemed to have a rubber-like seal on each side. They extended over three metrons to the underside of the flat ceiling structure, as if they'd been added at some randomly chosen spot along the corridor's length.

Seeing no controls for the doors and no windows within them, both Warriors approached the doors and each took a side. Glancing back to be sure nothing was approaching from behind, they both leaned slightly against their door, feeling a slight movement. Nodding to each other, and then on a quick three-count that Urdea ticked off on his raised fingers, they pushed hard, with rifles out ready to blaze away at whatever they encountered.

The greater pressure in the room would have made it difficult for them to open the doors on their own, but it appeared that the doors had a power assist device at the top and at the bottom, which made the door open rather easily and then promptly close again. What they found behind the doors was simply a vestibule with another pair of nearly identical doors about four metrons away. Unlike the first set, these doors each had a small window which allowed the men to take first a quick peek, and then a more detailed view of the corridor beyond.

There were no Cylons in view, but there were several doors in the distance along each side of the corridor. Urdea started to push on one of the doors but felt resistance until Phideas pointed to a small light on the both sides of each set of doors. All four lights were red, but when the doors they had just entered fully closed and the atmosphere adjusted, the lights on the inner doors turned orange and then green. Taking that as the signal, they pushed and the doors swung open as easily as the first pair.

Getting through them, both men flattened themselves against their side of the corridor, sweeping their weapons to cover forward and the opposite side of the corridor ahead. Moving quickly, they reached the first door on the right side.

Peering in its small window, they saw what appeared to be some type of manufacturing facility, with numerous stations consisting of more of the alien-like equipment and what appeared to be a completely different type of conveyor systems transporting small glass-like cylinders filled with a grayish white powder. Seeing neither entry controls nor Cylon activity in the room, they pushed the door open quietly and entered.

'***

The equipment was indeed of a similar type to that outside, very old and apparently very alien.

Unfortunately, the Cylons had apparently learned enough about it to put it back to work after no-telling how many yahrens of inactivity, adding numerous pieces of starkly different technology that Urdea assumed was their own to facilitate the completion of whatever it was that they were manufacturing.

Taking a quick look at the conveyor system, he recognized written Cylon words stamped in some pieces of the assembly. While he hated it at the time, he still remembered parts of the Cylon written-language class he'd taken at the Academy.

The class consisted primarily of teaching Warriors to recognize and read the Cylon language at an elementary level (he'd never taken a more advanced class), so Urdea didn't know much, but he did recall the numbers, some words associated with shipboard control systems, fueling, weapons, and a few words of what were claimed to be high importance to the Colonial cause. Words such as "bioweapon" were on the latter list, and there on the glass-like cylinder was a word that looked very similar. The fact that at the end of the conveyor system another machine of Cylon design was grouping the cylinders in batches of six vials, boxing them in apparently shock resistant packaging, hermetically sealing the packages, and then resealing theose packages in hermetically sealed containers seemed proof enough.

For a race of homicidal robots that should be unaffected by bioweapons, it appeared to be overkill to Urdea, but they must have their reasons, he thought, possibly to protect any potential human allies or any human slaves. It also appeared to be a very slow process, with, according to Urdea's best estimate based only on the apparent speed of the conveyor, only one cylinder coming off the line every few centons. However long it was, he knew he wasn't going to stand around and wait for it.

Touching helmets, Urdea quickly shouted the bioweapon news to Phideas and told him his plan.

While Phideas stood guard, Urdea carefully removed one of the small packages from the line just before it should have entered the crate. He was concerned that it might set off an alarm, but at the slow processing pace, the missing package didn't appear to cause a problem. Hoping that it was sealed as well as it appeared, he removed the three explosives from his pack, and carefully placed the package inside so it could be evaluated by Colonial scientists. The rest of the product could not be allowed to be put to use by the Cylons, so Urdea started setting the explosives on a delayed timer to allow them to find the Warriors and escape.

He was about to set the first of the explosives when a Cylon lab worker, a civilian scientist type design, came walking down the aisle to see why one of the small packages hadn't entered the large crate as scheduled. Knowing that the Centurions had the human invaders pinned down outside, he showed no concern as he searched the conveyor system to see what might have caused a snag. Therefore, he didn't see the Warriors until it was too late.

Phideas shot him with his blaster and the Cylon worker pitched sideways and down onto the floor.

The sound of the blast attracted the other two Cylon lab workers, who, despite being classified as civilian models, were still Cylons. They activated an alarm and then charged forward to battle the invaders carrying portable plasma torches. Both went down quickly to well-placed shots from the Colonials, but the alarm continued to sound. Urdea signaled to Phideas to guard the door while he confirmed that there were no other Cylons inside the manufacturing room, and then looked for a way to silence the alarm.

Silencing the alarm was a lost cause, so he used his blaster to permanently silence the nearest speaker.

Getting back to the explosives, there were approximately twelve of the sealed crates in a room to the side, sitting on wheeled dollies as if ready for transport. Expecting more Cylons at any time but hoping against hope that they were all engaged against the Colonial forces outside, he quickly but carefully hid one of the devices under one of the dollies. Then, he set another and hid the other two within the manufacturing line, setting them for a simultaneous detonation in twenty centons in accordance with the prearranged plan for the assault.

Just as he finished placing the last bomb, his short range comm unit came back on line, but he was still getting nothing on the command channel.

"Phideas, the explosives are set. We've got just under twenty centons to find our guys and get out of here, or we'll all be cinders!" Peering out into the corridor and seeing nothing visible, they opened the door once again, placed a mission mark on the door to show that the room was clear and contained an explosive, and then made their way onward.

'***

Three centons and three doors later, they'd found more rooms associated with the manufacturing laboratory that they'd already rigged to blow in just a few centons. Using up Phideas's supply of explosives, one explosive was left in each of those rooms, which were filled with stored product in the first case, what appeared to be raw materials in the second, and what appeared to be Cylon living quarters in the third, including weapons and docking stations. Each of those doors were marked as well, so they approached the end of the corridor with hope that they'd finally found their missing Warriors.

Unfortunately, behind the door at the end was a ramp spiraling downward. As their last option and seeing that time was quickly running out, they went down the ramp quickly, ready to blast anything in their way. Fortunately, they ran into no opposition on the ramp, and at the bottom, Urdea was almost glad to see the locked door on the right side. Setting a hand mine against the locking mechanism, it blew microns later, and they shoved the wrecked door open.

The room was filled with stacks of enclosed cage-like structures, some of which were filled with mammalian-type creatures of various sizes and shapes. To the Warriors, some appeared almost cute while others appeared rather frightening.

Each cage appeared to be capable of being hooked to an individual air supply, though all were then open, exposed to the room air, plus water and food that the Warriors assumed were appropriate for the particular type of creature. In addition, a waste system seemed to lead away to downward sloping pipes that pitched toward the rear of the room. When they entered, the various animals began a cacophony of sounds that, fortunately, was muted somewhat by their armored enviro-suits' noise sensors.

"Do you see them?" asked Phideas as he scanned the cages.

"No, but it looks like there are at least three rooms in the back," replied Urdea. "Keep looking and cover that door, and I'll go take a quick look in each. Just under twelve centons. Hopefully our guys are in one of them." He didn't say it, but both men were also hoping that their friends were safe in one of the rooms.

As Urdea was quickly making his way toward the rear of the room, Phideas asked, "What about the animals? This place is going up soon. Should we let them go?"

Urdea had been thinking the same thing as he walked by them, but gave Phideas the answer he had to give. "I hate it, but they were basically dead the moment the Cylons got them, however that was. We don't know anything about them, whether they'd attack each other or even us, if we let them out, and since they're breathing what is showing up as pretty close to standard air content, they wouldn't be able to survive outside this building anyway. Sorry, but we have to leave them where they are."

"Understood," groused Phideas. "Bloody, fracking evil Cylons."

"Exactly."

Moving on through the facility to the doors at the back, Urdea saw that most of the cages in the back part of the room were empty, though stained, as if previously occupied. Coming to the rear doors, he saw a heavy door with a lock on the right, an open door in the center, and what looked like a sealed door with a small window on the left, somewhat similar to the one in the corridor on the level above.

Wanting to be sure there were no surprises such as Cylons in hiding, Urdea glanced into the center room with the open door and saw several cages positioned along around the wall.

With no obvious place for hidden Cylons, he quickly moved to the door on the left. Peeking in the small window to confirm that there were no Cylons inside, he saw a number of pipes and a couple of tanks, but, again, no Cylons.

Moving back to the center room for a moment, he felt an almost overwhelming urge to vomit as he looked on the putrid remains of some poor animal that seemed to have almost melted from the inside. Brownish-red blood had oozed from what Urdea believed to be its eyes, nostrils, and ears, and its gaping mouth appeared to have been contorted in pain before it lost its battle to survive. Glancing into two more cages, he witnessed similar results with different types of creatures.

On the back wall, there were two large tanks and a vat-like structure leading to what appeared to be some type of grinder that led to a pipe leading off to the left through the wall. Taking a quick glance into the vat then wishing fervently that he hadn't, he swallowed hard to keep from losing the contents of his stomach. He closed the door and added the clear mark as he commented, "Bloody fracking Cylons is right."

Finally, he moved to the door on the right, hoping he'd finally found their goal, but was prepared in case there was an army of Cylons behind the door. The electronic lock on it looked less complicated than the one on the entry to the main room, so Urdea simply gave it a blast with his Mark 3.5. With the lock and latching mechanism apparently destroyed and his weapon at the ready, he kicked the door.

As it swung open, he was greatly relieved to see Trent and Hamm in the process of jumping up to face their captors but there were no Cylons in sight. Both men were wearing enviro-suits, but they were individually chained to a large metal loop attached to the back wall. Their helmets were on the ground nearby; both faceplates appeared to have been broken in half.

Both men's faces lit up as they realized that the intruder was a comrade rather than one of their robot captors.

"Thank the Lords! A Warrior! You're a sight for sore eyes!" exclaimed Trent.

Hamm was excited, too. "I can't believe you came to get us. We were sure we were goners!"

Having seen the air was good in the room, Urdea popped the faceplate on his helmet open and grinned at the chained Warriors.

"Nah, we couldn't leave you guys out here by yourselves having all the fun," said Urdea as he grabbed Hamm's chain and stretched it as far away from them as he could. "Besides, Hamm, I think you still owe me three cubits from the pyramid game a couple of sectons ago. Now hold on, we'll get you guys out of here in a moment. Just stay really still while I take care of these…."

Urdea fired another blast from the rifle at short range and destroyed a link in the chain, allowing Hamm to free himself, though the shackles and chains were still attached to his wrists. A moment later, Trent was free, too.

Urdea pointed to the broken helmets and said, "That could be a problem, but fortunately, we have these," as he pulled a small can of epoxy seal spray, a folded faceplate patch cover in a tear-open pouch, and a roll of clear flex tape from a side pocket on his pack. "I only have one faceplate patch, but they say that flex tape can be used to fix almost anything, so give it a try."

Hamm laughed, "Yeah, they used to say that about it on Piscera, too! Flex tape and spray oil are supposed to fix anything."

"Hmm, no wonder we've had some many issues here. I didn't think to bring spray oil," deadpanned Urdea.

While the men were doing hasty repairs on their faceplates and asking a series of questions, Urdea gave quick answers and used his spare tank to top off their tanks. A couple centons later, they were testing their faceplate repairs as their suits repressurized.

Reaching in his holster and pulled out his blaster, Urdea handed his sidearm and some charges to Trent and said, "Hamm, get with Phideas for his. Now, guys, I'd love to just stand around and chat about old times for a while, but," but checking his chrono, "we've only got 7 centons left before this place goes—"

There was even less time than he thought, however, because at that exact same moment Phideas shouted over the comm link, "URDEA! WE HAVE COMPANY!"

'***


	7. Part 7-Chapter 7

**Chapter 7:**

On the landing pad:

A couple of the survivors from Drop Ship 1 had rigged winches and were pulling the ship toward the edge, in an attempt to clear the pad for what was hoped would be a successful pickup by the other ships within the next half centar or so. DS3 was assisting with the effort, with its forward tow cable deployed and the ship's engines whining as the damaged ship made slow progress toward the edge. There, the wreck of DS1 would take one final, ever-so-brief flight as it plummeted off the edge and tumbled down the mountainside into the ravine below. A couple of explosive devices would make sure that there was no Colonial technology salvageable by the Cylons.

Due to the Cylon mines found under several more pieces of the alien equipment on the main floor of the ancient building, most of the Colonials had been forced to withdraw to the outer wall of the building. Most went back through the holes they'd originally entered, and were using the wall as their defense barrier. The remaining group on left side of the Colonial line followed the others a short time later when a Cylon hand mine came rolling into the area. They scampered back to safety through the wall just before the little bomb went off. Therefore, the Colonials completely controlled the pad, but left the Cylons in command of the main room of the building.

While the situation didn't look all that good for the Colonials, the Cylons had their own problems. They were also essentially pinned down behind the alien equipment which neither side seemed all that interested in destroying. In addition, since it was a small base and considering they'd taken heavy losses from Gronicus' turbolaser in the early part of the battle, they didn't have the overwhelming numbers on which they usually relied to rush in and overpower their foes. Instead, they were forced to rely on little used parts of their cybernetic brains, original programming rarely called upon during the thousand yahren war with the Colonials. Thus, the battle devolved into a sharpshooting contest where any extended exposure invited death; both sides continued suppression fire on a random basis while their snipers searched for a secure but covered position from which to fire on exposed members of the other side.

Outside, Lieutenants Xercleon and Demeter were having a heated discussion over the local comm about the correct course of action, while the Command channel was being restarted yet again. Demeter, who was slightly senior, gave the order that saving the alien equipment be dropped as a priority, but Xercleon pointed out that their mission orders were for them to avoid damage to it so it could be salvaged. "You have to follow the plan!" he almost shouted at Demeter.

Lieutenant Demeter, who was attempting to remain calm despite the junior officer's provocation, pointed at the destruction on the pad and said in the calmest voice he could muster, "Xercleon, before he was killed, Lieutenant Mionicles told us the plan was shot. Remember that? Good. Therefore, forget the fracking equipment. Getting our guys back is top priority, alien equipment be damned. When we go back in, we're going to blow every bit of that stuff if that's what's needed to get them back. Do you understand, Lieutenant?"

Xercleon realized what he'd been arguing, and said, "Sorry, Lieutenant. I'll get my squad ready. Let's go get our guys."

The Command channel finally crackled back to life about that time, but didn't sound very good when the comm officer on DS2 activated it and said, "Test, test, test. Respond."

Most of those in the field clicked acknowledgement, but a few were missing, so the test was repeated. It was then that Marchuk was able to call in on Command, "Sir, two guys from Squad 1, Urdea and Phideas—they broke through before we had to fall back! They made it into that corridor and went after our Warriors! They're still in there and about five Cylons took off for that corridor a couple of centons ago. Whoever's on turbolaser splattered one and we got another one, but the other three got through the doors. Urdea and Phideas have at least three tinheads sneaking up behind them!"

"Everyone, that corridor must be strictly off limits to any more Cylons. If our guys are going to have a chance to rescue the prisoners, we have to do whatever it takes to make sure that no more tinheads make it in there, and pray that they aren't surprised from behind," said Lieutenant Demeter. Silently he added, "Lords help them."

'***

In the sky above Delta 16:

The support Vipers had pulled back up above the moon's thin atmosphere in order to conserve fuel, as had DS4. They had all assumed an orbital pattern, but were expending just enough fuel to allow them to stay only a relatively sharp dive away from the ancient building and the battle zone. DS3, on finishing helping to pull the remains of DS1 off the edge of the platform, was on its way up to join the other ships, and DS2 was in the process of landing on the pad to deploy the LAMAV and support troops to help turn the tide of the battle.

"Hey Cap, are you getting anything funny on your scanner?" asked Ensign Leto. "I'm getting some ground clutter that appears to be moving. And moving pretty fast! Looks like it's going straight toward the building."

"Yeah, I'm getting it now, too, Leto. Good work. Guys, we've got bogeys incoming on an intercept course for our guys on the ground. They're pretty close together, but it looks like quite a few of them. Here's what we're going to do…."

'***

A single Cylon Raider, flying extremely low and moving very slowly, zigzagged its way through the craggy mountain valleys of the moon, carefully hugging the landscape and taking every precaution needed to avoid detection from all but the most careful observer who might be passing directly overhead. With the bait now being offered several hundred kilometrons ahead in the main group, the gold colored Cylon Centurion didn't feel there was too much risk of being observed, but on seeing what would normally be high precision flying but in this case might lead to discovery, the commander said to his pilot, "You must tighten your flight pattern. Do what it takes to avoid detection. When our forces at the mountain base allow the few surviving humans to withdraw, we must be in position to trail the survivors as they flee to their fleet."

The robot pilot, chastised but not offended in the least, returned to following the carefully preplotted flight plan to the letter and replied, "By your command."

The gold Centurion turned to the small viewscreen and once again said, "Intendant, report," but again, there was no response. Perhaps the intendant was performing testing on the small furbags again, but that was not an acceptable excuse during a military operation. Since he was in charge of the operation on the moon, he would require selective reprogramming for the intendant following the destruction of the human fleet.

'***

Hidden in the upper atmosphere of the blue gas giant, Delta:

The IL series robot, its cranium scintillating, entered the command room of the Base Fleet commander and approached the command podium. Speaking in its soft voice, it said, "Commander, the trajectory detected by our forces on the moon has been analyzed and it appears that the human fleet is most likely located on the back side of this gas giant. This matches the predicted plan we have from one of our spies within the human ranks. We have a Raider prepared to track the humans back to their fleet when they withdraw from their incursion into our bio-facility."

The Commander turned toward the speaker and said, "This is as expected." He hit a button on his console, which lit up a three dimensional model of the blue gas giant and the moon with the base between them, and continued, "Our base ships will emerge from the atmosphere now and set these courses, which will allow us to trap the human battlestar and its paltry fleet between us, about here. If the humans begin orbiting the giant, then the rendezvous point will change to somewhere in this area, but we will still have them between our forces and we will destroy them." As he spoke, the model illustrated each step in the carefully crafted plan.

"Commander, what if the humans do something...unexpected? It is, after all, somewhat inherent in their nature to adapt."

"They have no reason to do so since they do not know of our presence, but if they do," replied the Commander, "we will do as they do. We will adapt our plan and then we will destroy them."

'***


	8. Part 8-Another Interlude & Chapter 8

_**Another Interlude:**_

 _With my life being ended by a well-placed Cylon shot to my chest, I embraced my death, looking for peace, for the quick release from the terrible pain I suffered._

 _Unfortunately, I'm not sure if those who espoused such theories of peace, of clouds and harps, and even of lakes of fire, were incompetent idiots, never having really experienced it themselves, or were just flat-out liars, but when I died in that stupid "alien" factory, my expected release did not come._

 _The pain, which I thought would have gone away on my passing, remained with me, making me wonder: was pulling little Danae's hair in Level 1 of school or picking on that little Sagittarian boy—Karpos, I think his name was—in Level 3 because I thought I liked him, or kissing Atreus behind the bleachers on field day in Kinkillen in Level 9 enough to send me straight to Hades? Well, maybe that last one since it really was some REALLY good kissing, but the others, surely not!_

 _Oh, my! What pain! The eternity of suffering that lies before me! I just don't think I can endure it. Lords! I think I could just die!_

 _'_ ***

 **Chapter 8:**

On the far end of the room, Phideas was just inside the room using the wrecked door as a barricade for cover, firing out the door opening and up the ramp. All three men came running. Based on the incoming shots, Urdea guessed that there were at least two Cylons about to try to gain entry. The caged animals, which had calmed somewhat since their initial entry, had resumed their litany of shrieks and other alien sounds.

"What's it look like?" Trent asked as Urdea stepped up and took a shot up the ramp at a disappearing glint.

"Not good," replied Phideas. "They've got us pinned. If we charge up the ramp, they'll be able to cut all four of us down and we may not even get one of them! Command channel's still dead, and we're currently too far away from anyone else for local to work with anyone other than the four of us. There's just no way out."

Hamm was reaching for Phideas's blaster pistol, but Urdea stopped him and handed him the Mark 3.5. "Take this one, and Phideas, let me borrow your blaster. I'm going to check out something. Don't let them get any closer, and be on the lookout in case they try to send you any special presents."

'***

Sprinting back across the room, Urdea stopped in front of the third door. Taking a quick peek in the little window and seeing nothing, he reached for the lever and pulled it. The door slid sideways, opening to the left. His suit's sensors picked up the sound of the air whistling by him, and a few loose items in the main room were sucked into the small room. The door thudded closed behind him and the atmosphere in the room seemed to stabilize.

As it had appeared through the window, it looked as if the room was some type of sewage treatment facility, where the waste from the lab animals flowed for disposal. Each of several pipes, including the big one from the adjacent room, had some type of valve-looking device on it before it turned down and entered into the floor. Urdea found an open hatch in the corner; peering inside, he saw only darkness below.

Bending over to angle the lights on his armored suit downward, he looked into the space and saw what appeared to be liquid about three to four metrons below the floor. Taking his hand light and getting down on the floor to get a better view, he moved it around enough to see that there was a rectangular room below, but that the wall one side appeared to have had a large hole in it, revealing what appeared to be a second chamber beyond. The top of the fluid was right at the bottom of the hole.

Increasing the intensity of the light, he saw into the chamber beyond and viewed ripples on the surface of the fluid coming from the area beyond his light. He nodded with a hopeful smile for the second time in only a few centons.

'***

Since Cylons would usually rush an emplacement to overrun it regardless of the losses required, Phideas guessed that they just didn't have enough Centurions available to be sure that they would succeed before all of the humans were dead. Therefore, both sides were swapping shots, but with the cover of the doorway on one side and the curvature of the ramp on the other, neither side seemed to be hitting anything.

"Hey, can you toss a hand mine up their little tin skirts?" asked Hamm, pulling back in from taking his shot with Urdea's Mark 3.5.

Phideas nodded and said, "I'd be glad to toss it up there and blow them all to Cylon bye-bye land, IF I was sure it wouldn't roll back down the ramp before it took them out."

He leaned around the door opening, took a quick shot, and pulled back in as a Cylon shot hit the jamb beside him in reply. "That's what Urdea meant; if they get that idea, we've got problems."

Taking another shot with Trent doing a quick follow up, Phideas called out, "Urdea! What's going on back there? Are you taking a nap or something?"

'***

 ** _Author's Note:_** _If you're enjoying this story, or even if you have specific issues with it, please take a moment to leave a brief review to let me know your thoughts about it. Your feedback will be much appreciated and may help me improve this or future stories. Thanks! VST_


	9. Part 9-Chapter 9

**Chapter 9:**

With the Command channel back in operation, Lieutenant Demeter was putting it to good use. He'd already received reports from all four squads and spread the word that two of their troops had gone after the missing Warriors, and he'd given a series of commands that he hoped would end the battle in fairly short order.

"We have to give our guys the time they need to rescue our Warriors, and that means keeping these tinheads pinned down to keep them off their tails. We're just getting DS2 with the LAMAV onto the pad, so it will be deployed and ready to move in to assist in less than two centons. Once we wipe out this opposition, we'll send in a group to help them."

As soon as the order was given, the Colonials redoubled their firing effort, trying to be sure to keep the area near the corridor clear of any Cylons. There was some return fire from the Cylons, but they appeared to be focused on holding their ground and preserving their numbers instead of their usual behavior of rushing in and overwhelming with superior numbers.

"Lieutenant Demeter, can you hear me?" croaked a barely audible voice. "Demeter?"

Demeter checked the HUD to confirm that the voice belonged to Andotov. "Captain! It's good to hear your voice, Sir! Though it is really hard to hear you."

"Lieutenant, listen carefully. I've listened. To the reports. Something's wrong. The Cylons. Are up to something. Stalling. Trying to keep us busy. Delay us. Don't let them. You. You determine. Battle parameters. Not them..."

"Captain? Captain?" He turned back to see the Med Tech and another survivor of DS1 picking the Captain up and taking him aboard DS2. The Med Tech signaled and then said, "He was using too much energy and we're afraid we'd lose him, so we've given him a sedative to stabilize him until we get home. He'll be out until then."

Lieutenant Demeter turned to see the Light Assault Mobile Artillery Vehicle, starting to move forward to a spot marked on the wall by a couple of the guys on the pad. As it approached, it deployed a plasma cutter on an articulated arm and cut a large opening in the wall in less than a centon while the troops kept the Cylons away from the corridor in the distance. When the cut was complete, the LAMAV moved forward, bumping the wall, and knocking it inward so it fell forward to the floor.

The Colonial Trooper operating the LAMAV's weapon system focused his initial high speed rotary projectile fire in an arc along the back of the room, blasting through equipment and several Cylons simultaneously. Then, he turned the heavy turbolaser on the base of a piece of equipment hastily marked as being the location of a Cylon mine.

The resulting explosion destroyed several pieces of equipment, but took out at least one Cylon as well. With that one out of the way, the Trooper swung his armored turret to the right and searched for the next piece of equipment housing a Cylon explosive.

'***

Four Vipers came barreling in high and fast from directly behind the Cylon attack group.

The Raiders sensor systems, primarily focused on the rough terrain just below, gave them relatively little warning, but still more than the Colonials had hoped. Because of their low height, this allowed them limited time to scatter. The Warriors hit their turbothrusters just as they began firing and then pulled up sharply, doing a bounce-like move, using their momentum to quickly put them back high above the moon.

One Cylon ship exploded as they did this, and two others took seemingly solid hits that sent them downward, trailing thick black smoke. There was an explosion in the distance from one just moments later, though the other was never seen again; whether it went down or limped away was unknown. The remaining Cylon Raiders continued their scattering and attempted to gain height.

The second group of four Vipers, which had begun their powered dive just before the firing started, hit just moments later, before the Cylons had time to restore battle order, and another Raider turned into flaming, flying shards, arcing ever-so-briefly through the sky before raining down on the rocky terrain below.

However, Cylons, being Cylons, process things quickly, and within microns, the Vipers' initial advantage was lost and it became a slugging match in the sky over Delta Sixteen. The Cylons automatically formed new flight groups based on their proximity, and quickly adjusted to match the conditions and flight patterns taken by their opponents. While the Cylons had a numerical advantage with ten Raiders to eight Vipers, the Colonial Warriors were happy they'd evened the odds at least somewhat and believed that their initial success had given them the upper hand...

'***

As soon as the Vipers' attack plan was determined, DS4 began a quick descent back down to the moon's surface in order to stay low and offer cover for the ground troops. DS3, which had been nearing the moon's upper atmosphere reversed course and quickly joined DS4 in a double cover pattern to provide maximum protection against any Raiders that might slip through the Vipers' defensive net. Within a couple of centons, they were circling, low to the mountains, ready to provide cover for the Warriors at the facility.

'***

The battle on the floor of the alien factory was reaching its climax.

Sergeant Gronicus, the weaponsmaster, had collapsed shortly after the LAMAV had entered the building and taken over the primary job of eliminating hidden Cylon mines. His turbolaser was exhausted anyway, so he was moved to DS2, where a Med Tech could more properly treat his wounds.

The Colonials were moving forward, trying to reach the central corriodor to isolate the remaining Cylons into two groups, with the LAMAV moving forward to provide cover as well as covering fire.

The Cylons weren't done yet though. One had moved into a hidden position with a directional missile tube, and when the LAMAV reached the point the tinhead had predicted, the small missile zipped from the tube, crossed the ten or so metrons of space in roughly the blink of an eye, and exploded into the front left side of the LAMAV, down low. Both Troopers within the vehicle, badly dazed from the explosion, were forced to escape from it as it belched smoke and appeared to be about to explode.

The remaining Cylons took that moment to launch what appeared to be a counterattack; however, while the majority of the Cylons held their ground, three others quickly ran into the corridor and through the set of double doors. Moments later, the Colonials succeeded in taking out the three remaining silver robots on the factory floor, and they moved toward the corridor.

'***

The battle in the sky had migrated upward, to a region just beyond the atmosphere, where the speeds were higher, the fuel usage was lower, and the weaponry was more efficient. There was room to move, and move they did! Pilots of craft on one side weaved and bobbed and jinked and rolled, while pilots on the other side tried everything in their power to make their craft perform similar actions just a little bit better, to line up that shot accurately and then take it in that ever-so-tiny window of opportunity.

"Got 'em!" cried Ensign Leto, his Viper just dodging the worst of the exploding Raider as Sergeant Bronar, his wingmate for the mission, called out, "Great job, Kid!" At the same time, another was calling desperately for help. "He's on my tail! Help help help!"

"Coming!" came a cry and several streaks of turbolaser fire a moment later led to a couple of dark scorch marks along the right wing of the pursuing Raider, with a whisp of smoke trailing from the rear of its right laser cannon. The Raider promptly spiraled off out of the rescuing Warrior's sights, and a nearly breathless "Thanks!" followed.

'***

With Drop Ship 2 on the pad and the factory floor cleared of Cylon opposition, the able-bodied from DS1 and the Med Techs from DS2 quickly gathered and loaded the eight wounded so far in the battle, including one of the pilots of DS1, weaponsmaster Gronicus, and the other weaponsmaster who had been unconscious since the crash. This was quickly followed by gathering and loading of the bodies of the five Colonials killed in the action, including the other pilot who was killed when DS1 was shot down.

Within the building, the Colonials had set up a perimeter around the entrance to the corridor to prevent a Cylon breakout, and several were quickly searching a few small rooms along the back wall to make sure there were no passages that would allow the Cylons to mount a sneak attack from a different direction. As these rooms were cleared, a couple of hand mines were tossed into each to destroy the contents.

Two of the reserves from Squad 4 who had been tasked with recovering some of the alien equipment were making their way across the ancient factory floor, looking at each piece of the strange equipment, but it seemed that almost everything had been damaged in the battle. They finally spotted a piece that was apparently undamaged and already strapped to a wheeled crate, so they quickly checked it out, and, on finding no Cylon explosives strapped to it, wheeled it outside through the hole cut in the wall by the LAMAV, and soon had it aboard and strapped down aboard DS2.

While this was happening, Lieutenants Demeter and Xercleon were observing the doors in the corridor and discussing options. A quick push on the doors had revealed that there was at least some degree of atmospheric pressure beyond the doors but then they'd opened automatically, revealing the second set of doors beyond. A mirrored wand allowed a quick glance through the windows, revealing several Cylons positioned at door openings along the sides of the corridor beyond. "Xercleon, if we blow those doors as you've suggested, the loss in air pressure within that space may kill the very Warriors we're here to rescue," responded Demeter to Xercleon's suggestion.

"True, Demeter," replied Xercleon, but who's to know that by not blowing it, the Cylons just beyond this corridor aren't in the process of killing them anyway? At least we can provide our guys some help by making the Cylons continue to fight on a second front."

Demeter nodded, "Okay, you're right. Let's do this. Get that plasma cutter and get these outer doors down so they don't trap anyone inside, then get an explosion pack spread out on the swing side on both of those doors, ten micron set from mark. All troops, be ready to light up that corridor on my command. We have people in there, so DO NOT, repeat, DO NOT FIRE without a direct command. Okay, ten microns from mark. Mark!"

'***

"Cap," call one of the Viper pilots over the little moon, "Just hit the low fuel mark! Going to have to break off soon to be able to return to the ship."

"Same here, Cap!" called another Warrior.

The captain responded, "That's a no go, guys. We can't leave our boys on the ground here with these Raiders about, even if that means we have to float back to the fleet without power. It may take a few cycles...Up! Up! Up!...but we can do it. Oh, yeah! Got you, you silver bastard!"

"Great shot, Cap!" cried his wingmate.

Sergeant Bronar flying with Ensign Leto suddenly called out, "Leto, look out! The one that was chasing me just did a spiral peel off and is now rejoining yours! On my way!"

Ensign Leto called out, "No problem! He's right with his wing now. I'm on that one, then I'll take him in a moment! Just...almost...there!"

Suddenly, the two Raiders split, each doing a sloping 45, forcing Leto to move to his right to chase the one he almost had in his sights. As he finally lined up for the shot, he heard the more experienced Bronar shouting, "SCISSORS MANEUVER! BREAK OFF! BREAK OFF!" just as he started taking his shot. Confident that he had the Raider in his sights, he followed through with it and had the pleasure of seeing his second Raider of the battle and the second of his brief career explode into fiery bits, but too late he realized that the second Raider had closed the scissors and was now crossing his rear, firing as he went.

Bronar was still two or three microns away from position to provide cover, and the third blast hit Leto's Viper dead center of his engines, causing them to explode. Ensign Leto didn't even have time to cry out before the secondary fuel explosion took out the rest of Viper, killing him instantly, spreading his atoms in the openness of space.

"LETO!" cried Bronar as he fired moments too late at the victorious Raider, which rolled away toward the remaining Raiders that seemed to finally be withdrawing away from the Colonial forces in the sky and on the ground far below. "Oh! Kid! Why?" called Bronar, but it was far too late for Leto to hear him.

'***

The Colonial Marine setting the detonator hit the timer, then quickly ran away, getting to the hastily erected defensive perimeter. Moments later, the explosion sent both doors flyng further down the corridor.

As it did so, there was a sudden sucking sound as the facility's higher internal pressure blew outward into the moon's much thinner atmosphere. This included smoke and debris from the explosion, too.

The other thing streaking out from the corridor was a significant amount of Cylon laser fire. Despite the fact that he couldn't see down the corridor as planned, Lieutenant Demeter was forced to give the order to return fire. After the initial pressure differential had faded, two Colonial Marines, one placed on each side just outside the corridor, started pitching in a series of short-fused hand mines at about one micron intervals. The resulting explosions started a couple of microns later.

Squad Two then rushed in, eliminating opposition in the hall and at the entries to the doors. At least a couple Cylons remained in the rooms, but with the Colonials holding the doors, they were effectively pinned inside.

Suddenly, one of the men called on the Command channel, "Lieutenant Demeter, there's another door at the end of the corridor that appears sealed, but we're now seeing Colonial mission explosion marks placed on the doors on both sides of the corridor! Detonation time is-oh holy Lords!-it's less than a centon from now!"

Demeter and Xercleon responded simultaneously and with the exact same phrase, "Get out of there! Now!"

'***


	10. Part 10-Chapter 10

**Chapter 10:**

 _A few moments earlier:_

Urdea had a cord tied off around the large pipe and was in the process of lowering himself into the room below using the cord threaded through a climber's figure 8 descender clipped to the enviro-suit's internal harness system. His foot was engaged in an ascender device that would allow him, with the moon's light gravity, to easily climb out if he found that the chamber was very deep, filled with metrons of fluid, or if it contained some caustic substance that might damage his suit. He saw that the walls were covered with some type of sludge-like substance, but they appeared to be fairly dry, except in the area where the pipes from above dropped fluid into the vessel.

As he neared the dark surface of the fluid, he looked through the hole in the wall into the other chamber and confirmed that the ripples were still present on the surface, as if being disturbed by something beyond. Taking a rod he'd found in the room above, he carefully probed into the liquid, finding that it was actually muck. The rod went in about a half of a metron before he encountered what felt like the bottom. That was the first bit of good news. Pulling the rod back up, he looked at it carefully, hoping against hope that it wouldn't be reacting with the fluids; his suit was designed to resist short term exposure to many caustic substances, but it couldn't withstand extended contact and be expected to survive.

Seeing the rod pass the second test, though knowing that it might just not be affected by the liquid substance, he muttered to himself, "Well, here goes!" as he lowered himself once again, keeping one foot in the climbing loop just above the surface of the water. The other foot descended into the fluid and he breathed a short sigh of relief a moment later when it settled onto a solid bottom. He pulled his foot back out, and looked at the suit, and then breathed a much bigger sigh of relief when he saw that his suit hadn't melted, burned, or otherwise disintegrated. Stepping back in once more and then stepping out of the climbing loop, he ran it back up a bit in case he needed it later. Feeding out the cord as needed, he turned around and confirmed that he was in some type of tank vault. "Keep holding them off, guys. I'll be back with you in a moment."

Doing some more probing and finding the floor of the tank solid and seemingly level, he moved toward to the large hole in the far wall. Further up the side of that wall, he saw four vertical pipes, all about 15 centimetrons or so in diameter, pointing downward, ending about a metron above the bottom of the tank, and extending up about a metron or so before hitting a tee with a pipe through the endwall. The top of the vertical pipe appeared capped just above the tee, as if it was an access point.

As he neared the hole in the wall and despite taking care, Urdea lost his footing on the slippery bottom, and fell sprawling into the muck. He threw his hands out, trying to keep from impacting his helmet on anything that might cause it damage. Still, it descended into the muck and he felt overwhelmed and fearful as the lights on his suit went out and darkness overtook him.

He fought the urge to struggle to right himself since he knew that he'd probably just slip and fall again, and possibly cause more damage to his suit or helmet. Instead, he made sure he had his arms and legs carefully placed before rising from the nasty soup, as if he was some type of alien swamp monster, with the sludge draining away and the light returning, at least somewhat. "This is going to be a real mess to clean up," he thought, deliberately avoiding the obvious "if" clause at the end of his observation, while wiping the foul liquid from his faceplate and the lights on his suit and helmet.

On finally reaching the hole, he peered into the smaller chamber beyond. The walls were essentially the same as in the first tank, though the coating was much lighter, but dry none-the-less. Then, training his lights in that direction, he saw what he was seeking.

On the far wall, just above the surface of the fluid, was a circular hole about 2/3rds of a metron in diameter. The ripples on the surface were spreading out from that point. Stepping through the hole blasted through the inner wall and being careful not to fall in the rubble, he moved to the circular hole, probing carefully as he went, not wanting to slip again, knowing that he couldn't afford the time. Peering intently into the hole and then glancing at his chrono, he said, "Guys, we may have something here. What's your status up there?"

'***

Pulling back into cover after firing a blast up the ramp, Phideas replied, "Urdea, we still can't get through to anyone on Command channel. We've taken one out Cylon, but we think he was replaced by one of his tinhead brothers, so we still have at least two or three of them shooting at us in turns. Also, not sure if they caused it, but we had a real drop in air pressure a few moments ago, though it seems to have stabilized now. That's not the bad news, though. Remember the gifts we left them upstairs? Well, they found one of them and have slid it down the ramp! It's just far enough away that we can't reach it to deactivate it without one of us getting our head blown off, but close enough that when it goes boom, we may all be going bye-bye, too." Phideas seemed short of breath as he bobbed out to take another shot and then back in again.

"Okay, Phideas, we have less than 90 microns before those explosives go off. You stay there and guard the door for now, keeping them off of us. Trent, Hamm—make a beeline toward the left room in the back. Trent, you get into the room and I'll tell you all what to do in a moment. Hamm, get several of those empty cages flipped on their sides, lined up top and bottom toward the entry door, set up as a barricade off to the right. Then set up covering the main door with that 3.5. As soon as you're there…."

'***

With 35 microns on his chrono timer, Urdea said, "Hamm, here goes, get ready to lay covering fire. Phideas, just as we discussed. Ready, go! Hamm, cover him!" Phideas fired off two more shots out that main door, threw a couple of hand mines with a short timer setting up the ramp and another with a longer setting just outside the door, then he sprinted for the room on the left while Hamm fired off a few rounds through the door. When Phideas reached the left door, he pulled the lever to open it, then turned and fired off a few rounds toward the main entry door across the room, while Hamm ran through the door with him.

Phideas was breathing hard as he said, "Urdea, done! We're in and the door just closed itself. I don't see any Cylons coming in yet."

"Nope, and they probably won't try it assuming they saw the timer. They figure they'll let it take us out. Seventeen microns. Now, in the corner, slip through the hatch and just drop straight down."

"UUMMPH!" sounded Phideas a moment later as he landed with a huge splash in the muck, being kept from falling only by Urdea's guiding hands as he landed. Urdea said, "Go, Phideas, go!" as he directed him toward the hole. Urdea grabbed Hamm to steady him as he dropped next, barely keeping him upright as one of Hamm's feet slipped sideways. "Holy Lords of Kobol! What is this stuff?" cried Hamm, on steadying himself and seeing the surface of the fluid.

"Don't even ask," replied Urdea, as he was pushing him toward the hole in the wall. "Eight microns. Get through this, Hamm, go!"

Phideas was already struggling to get through the hole, falling sideways as he did. He felt a pair of hands pulling him over and down, immediately behind the wall through which he had just come. Glancing back in to the bright light, he saw what he thought was Urdea bodily shoving Hamm through the opening and then diving through the hole himself just as they felt the structure begin vibrating as if experiencing a seismic quake!

'***

 _On the landing pad:_

The first vibration hit followed by another, followed by the first shockwave blowing out from the corridor a moment later, immediately followed by the first large gout of flame rushing outward and the first sounds of the explosion. The vibrations continued basically nonstop after that for several more microns as additional apparently primary and very powerful secondary explosions occurred within the depths of the building built into the side of the mountain. When it finally seemed to be over, the Colonials rose from their sheltered positions, with weapons trained on the corridor location, which was entirely obscured by the smoke and a few flickering flames that survived in the very low oxygen environment. A few minor secondary explosions continued sounding deep within the building as Lieutenant Demeter ordered Squad 3 forward to investigate the destruction.

The troops cautiously entered the swirling smoke, disappearing from view in a micron or two. It didn't take long, however, before the first report emerged, "Lieutenant, the explosives did too good a job and the corridor has collapsed, including part of the mountain rock above. There's no way we'll get into that without heavy mining equipment and possibly cycles of effort."

As the smoke cleared, Lieutenants Demeter and Xercleon both moved forward to take a look for themselves, and they both agreed with the earlier assessment. Demeter asked on the Command channel, "Has anyone been able to establish contact with either Urdea or Phideas since this channel came back online?" There was silence, and both men looked at each other shaking their heads. Xercleon spoke first, "If by some miracle they were able to survive the explosions, we'll never be able to get to them in time..."

Demeter paused for a moment then finally nodded dejectedly, "Xerc, you're right. They're gone." Looking out the opening in the exterior wall of the outer building, which still stood, he said, "Okay, everyone, we did everything humanly possible, but there's no way our guys could have survived those blasts and the collapse. With Raiders in the area and no telling what else, we don't have time to try to dig them out, even if we had the equipment, before the Cylons could be back with reinforcements. Therefore, let's mount up quickly and head home."

'***


	11. Part 11-Chapter 11

**Chapter 11:**

 _In the secondary chamber:_

The vibrations and sounds of explosions were quite bad in the secondary chamber of the old tank, but the distance and series of turns helped dampen most of the explosive force. Some flames curled into and around the hatch in the main chamber, but the four Warriors in the secondary chamber didn't even see it. Three had successfully dropped down behind the divider wall, on the balls of their feet, tucked down and partially immersed ih the muck, just hoping to survive the shockwave that, fortunately, didn't come. Urdea, the last Warrior to enter the secondary chamber wasn't quite so lucky; in fact, on diving into the chamber he only had time to curl into a ball and grasp his helmet with his hands while still mostly immersed in the mucky liquid.

When the vibrations finally ended, Urdea carefully got his hands and knees under him once more and again stood up from the muck, thoroughly drenched and coated, giving his hands and arms a flick to get as much of the disgusting goop off of him as possible. Immediately, he was covered in dust, which, unlike the fire, had poured into the room following the explosion, filling the air like the sandstorm that Urdea had once witnessed on a training exercise in the Great Southern Desert of Taura. The other three were just rising as well, more than a little surprised that they'd lived through the event. As they did high hand clasps together, Urdea hoped that their celebration wasn't premature, or worse yet, entirely misplaced.

He said nothing to dampen their spirits as he carefully made his way to the rear wall. Peering into the circular hole for the second time, he was saying a silent prayer as he peered into the dusty turmoil. At first, it was hard to see anything in the hole, but as the dust ever-so-slowly settled and cleared, he was overjoyed to find that the shaft had not collapsed in the explosions, since, very vaguely through the dust, a very dim light could be seen at the far end, down a little slope, less than 20 metrons away.

Urdea motioned to the hole and said, "Gentlemen, when the Cylons arrived here, I suspect this old septic system used hundreds or even thousands of yahrens ago, probably by the miners or whatever they were that lived and worked here, was as dry as a bone, with an ancient sludge layer. When the Cylons started using it for their poor lab animals' waste and their carcass disposals, they didn't understand the system and didn't know how it worked or how to treat it, so it clogged pretty quickly. When it did, they didn't know what to do, so in typical Cylon fashion, they blasted a hole in that wall," he said, pointing to the divider wall between the chambers, "and then came right over here and drilled this hole out the side of mountain so it would drain out, treatment be damned. Now," pointing to the borehole and holding out a flare they'd use to be located, "it's going to be a tight fit and a really nasty crawl, but let's see if we can get out of here and catch a ride home. Who's first?"

'***

A couple of centons later, having accepted his companions nomination to continue as leader, an extremely tired and very filthy Urdea gingerly poked a helmeted head from the end of the Cylon bore, holding his blaster in front of him. As he had neared the end of the tunnel pipe, he noticed that the liquid was turning to ice. Looking around he couldn't see anything except the steep mountain and a small stream of frozen runoff trailing downward.

On the third call he finally got through on the Command channel. The excitement clearly carried through in Lieutenant Demeter's voice. "Urdea! Holy Lords! Thanks be! Where in Hades are you? We thought you were buried deep inside the building! If you'd been another centon or two later, we would have left you behind!"

"Oh, we were deep inside all right," replied Urdea, "but this place just seemed like too much of a fixer-upper, so we decided not to stay. Thanks for sticking around for us. We're now on the side of the mountain in a borehole, off to the left of the building and some way around the mountainside, I believe. I think it's that flow location we saw in the briefing, but I can't be sure. I'm getting ready to light a flare to help you locate us if you have someone who can pick us up. We have four for pickup making it a little crowded in here, so we would really appreciate not having to wait too long."

'***

With the outer portion of the building set with explosives, and the wounded, the bodies, and the seemingly undamaged piece of the alien equipment aboard, DS2 gathered up several of the troops and took off, and DS4 swooped in to pick up the rest of the assault team. At the same time, Lieutenant Demeter ordered that DS3 be diverted to the area Urdea had noted. The DS3 pilots quickly located the flare and settled the shuttlecraft into position a short distance above it. The weaponsmasters lowered a harness and picked up the four Warriors, hauling them from the bore hole one at a time. Moments later, all three drop ships were on their way up to join the Vipers drifting slowly a bit above the top of the thin layer of atmosphere to conserve fuel. As they departed, a group of flashes filled the sky behind them, and the rest of the building collapsed inward. A moment later, the pad exploded and crumpled down the side of the mountain.

Aboard DS3, with the ship sealed, pressurized, and air flowing, everyone removed their helmets…and promptly wished they hadn't. Between the smell and the dripping waste fluid, it was going to be a long decontamination and cleanup!

'***

 _On the lone Raider:_

Due to the distance, there were slight communications delays between the Raider and the base ship circling the blue planet, but the gold Centurion took the required pauses to account for it. "Our Centurions on the ground at our bio-base succeeded in holding the Colonials for the required length of time. We were able to get to the planned position, and are now trailing far behind the remaining Vipers and their assault shuttlecraft. Unfortunately, our bioweapons facility appears to have been destroyed. Now, the Colonials are on course for the back side of the planet, as predicted, and will lead us right to their battlestar."

Several microns later, the response came back, "Yes, the group Commander has determined that our intelligence is solid based on all that has occurred thus far, so he has already taken his ship around the back of the blue gas giant. Therefore, he will not be in communications range for some time. We will continue on our course to rendezvous with his base ship in the approximate location our spy predicted as borne out by your findings. The rest of your wing is already nearing our location for refueling to allow them to be able to join in the final assault on the Colonial battlestar and its fleet. Well done, Centurion leader. Continue to follow the Colonials discreetly and let us know if there are any changes." That it would be a very good cycle for the Cylon Empire was left unsaid, but both Cylons understood what was inferred.

"By your command."

Several centons passed as the Raider trailed far behind the Colonial assault force. Suddenly the Cylon weapons officer said, "Centurion, the humans appear to be radically changing course." He read off the new course, which the gold Centurion quickly checked and confirmed.

The Cylon pilot spoke, "This is not logical. Why would they be turning there and why in that direction?"

The gold Centurion replied, "It is correct that there is nothing for them to gain by extending their flight…unless they suspect our presence. From this range with the moon directly behind us, the odds of them detecting us are extremely low, but perhaps by trying from a different angle, they are attempting to detect any pursuit."

With this seeming to be the most logical explanation, the gold centurion reported this to the moon-side base ship, whose commander replied, "You have done well in reducing speed to avoid detection. Begin pursuit again using the moon to obscure you after they make their turn back toward their rendezvous point."

The gold Centurion was about to acknowledge the command, but at that moment, the weapons officer spoke again, "Another possibility for the turn is so they can rendezvous with the battlestar and the other ships that just appeared behind it."

Turning quickly to see the long range scan, the weapons officer's comment was confirmed. The gold Centurion immediately activated the comm unit and again called to the base ship that was in range, "The Colonials appear to have made a flank speed swing around the planet and are now at the attached coordinates instead of on the back side of the planet as believed. Their assault force is landing now." However, with the slight transmit delays over the distances between the ships, the battlestar and the other ships were already accelerating away even before the Centurion received his orders, and moments later, the Colonials were gone, leaving the little moon, the blue gas giant, and the Cylons' planned ambush far behind them.

'***


	12. Part 12-Chapter 12

**Chapter 12:**

 _The current cycle:_

"CLEAR! Three! Two! One!"

The electric charge was released with a sudden ZZZZAAAAAPPPP and a distinct smell of ozone filled the air.

'***

 _Another short interlude:_

 _My pain continued, unending, for some interminable period, when suddenly, it increased one-hundred fold and, instead of continuing to be tormented with the ongoing, unbearable wait for the arrival of pesky flying babies and unendurably horrific harp music, I am gasping, grasping, starving for air like one of the evil ones thrown into the burning lake. Oh, Lords! This so isn't right, this punishment that you're dumping on me! If this is in fact the Hades place, I'm beginning to hate it a lot more than I ever dreamed would be possible. And Lords, maybe it's just me, but if by some chance this is actually the heaven place, I hate to tell you but you need to make some improvements; it's currently seriously overrated!_

 _Yes, Lords, I'm really sorry for all the bad things I did, especially to Danae and Karpos, and, Lords, I'm even considering doing penance for kissing Atreus, as good as that was! Oh, please, Lords, let me breathe! Please! Please! Let me breathe! LET ME BREATHE!_

 _Then, there, as the Lords finally take pity on me and grant my request, allowing cool air to suddenly flood into my oxygen-deprived lungs, a very bright, very blinding light suddenly appears before me…._

 _'***_

 _The current cycle, a moment later:_

"Aaahhkkhh!…Iihh..iehf...if you...if you don't get that…blasted light...out of my eyes...I swear...I'll kill you...when I can finally get up," mumbled Jostine as clearly and as authoritatively as she could while lying dazed and partially exposed on the deck with her armored enviro-suit spread open and athletic bra cut so the Med Tech could reach her chest with the electro paddles.

"That's my girl!" exclaimed Ensign Walrach, flipping off the light he was shining in her eyes and gently pushing the paddles away before the Med Tech could shock her again. Then, he helped pull her suit closed to cover the nasty red marks on her chest and the inner edges of her smallish though shapely feminine curves. There were a couple of juvenile snickers as he did it quickly but rather deliberately, carefully averting his gaze, which apparently, in the eyes of the other trainees, answered a bet that had been wagered in the barracks among some of them in the past few sectons as Walrach and Jostine had been seen growing steadily closer to each other. He quickly assumed a junior officer look, flashing a very preturbed frown at the trainees, sternly saying, "Can it!" Then, he turned his attention solely to her. "Jos! Sweetheart! You're alive! You can't believe the scare you gave us, girl!"

"You?" she croaked incredulously, reaching up unsteadily to take his hand. "You had a scare? I'm on a mission to rescue two brave lost Warriors on a distant moon...with some type of secret alien technology when I'm shot next to one of the alien machines. Wally, do you know what it said on its side? "Mega Corp Crusher Machine, Caprica City, Caprica"! Oo-oh! That sounds so very alien to me! There, shot by Cylons that I couldn't kill even though I know I hit them-multiple times!-and I die and am stuck in Hades dreading what's to come for what seems like eternity...before waking up here with all of you trying to ogle my little girls and electrocute me! Don't you think I'm a little ahead of you in the scare-of-the-cycle department?" She gave a deep seated frown at him as she continued, "Well, don't you? Now, Wally are you going to tell me what's going on? Wally?" Because of her condition and the rapid pace at which she'd delivered it, she was almost out of breath when she finished her little tirade.

Walrach patted her hand, pulling it up to his cheek while fighting the tear in his eye, but the Med Tech interrupted and said, "Trainee Jostine, you really need to relax for now. I'm going to give you a little shot to help."

She turned her head slightly to him and was raising her other hand toward him to ward him off, but she was a moment too late. Just as he pricked her skin, she said, "Listen, buster! Don't you even tink abou dobn bat…." and her eyelids fluttered lightly and closed.

'***

 _A few_ centars _later in the Recovery Ward of the Life Sciences Station on the Galactica:_

He silently stepped into the room and up behind her, clenching his unlit fumarello in his teeth. Sliding his arms around her, he said, "Hello, Beautiful. How's our young patient?"

Cassiopeia, who had been caring for Jostine for the past half centar or so since she had arrived back on the Galactica, had just sat down a couple of centons earlier and had been lost in concentration, studying yet another ever-more-complicated medical issue on the monitor in front of her while her patient continued to sleep. Cassie jumped slightly on his unannounced arrival. "Oh, Starbuck! You startled me!" she said as she rose and turned toward him to wrap her arms around him as well. Starbuck chuckled and, quickly losing the fumarello, joined with her in a much more sizzling kiss than she had even dared anticipate.

"Wow! I didn't think you were going to be back until tonight," she said at just above a whisper as she pushed him away, trying to restore at least a bit of decorum to the situation in case anyone else entered the room. Fortunately, there were no patients other than Jostine in a private room off the main ward, so she relaxed a bit when she saw that Jostine's visitors were still in the room talking quietly while awaiting her awakening. "Not that I mind that you're back early, but..."

"Trainee Jostine's accident changed all the plans. She's one of our best young recruits and we're worried about her, but we're also concerned that what happened to her might happen to someone else," Starbuck replied in an equally low voice as he moved in and held her once more. "Therefore, Apollo and I agreed to cancel the rest of the exercise and we got everyone back here to resume training. We were planning to do a post-op review, too, but Commander Adama has issued new orders related to the upcoming resupply effort. He wants one more survey of a couple of planets before we start, so Apollo's personally taking the review session, Sheba, Jolly, and a bunch of people are stepping in to help with the training, and Boomer and I are assigned to fly the survey mission. Boomer's gone on to lay in the course and take a closer look at anything we're expecting to encounter along the way. Assuming all goes as expected, we should be back in about two cycles or so."

Cassie looked at him with a great deal of concern on her face. "Oh, Starbuck, do be careful! Please come home safely!"

"You know me, sweetheart, I always do," he said with a grin. And sliding his hands down her back and giving a little squeeze, he added playfully, "And when I do..."

Eyes widening in surprise, she bobbed upward slightly before settling back to her normal height, as she quickly raised his hands back up to a more respectable level. "Star-buck!" Then, with a tiny hint of irritation mixed with just the right touch of poutiness, she went on, "So our plans for tomorrow evening are shot…?" If she remembered correctly, this was at least the fourth time in a row that their plans were having to be postponed. Cassie glanced around once more, making sure that the area was still clear except for those in Jostine's room, hoping that no one had seen the latest little display.

"Yeah, again," he sighed. "Yes, I'm so sorry, Cassie, but I'll make it up to you soon, I promise." Glancing at his chrono, he continued, "I've got less than eight centons to be in the mission briefing room in Alpha Bay, so that gives you about two centons to tell me how our young trainee's doing and then give me a proper sendoff."

"Two, huh? I don't know, after that kiss a couple of centons ago and that little tweak, that just doesn't seem like enough time to do it properly," replied Cassie with a grin, giving him a gentle push back toward a nearby supply closet after a final check to confirm that the medical bay was still clear.

Once inside it, Cassie hit the door closer button and looped her hands behind Starbuck's neck just as his back encountered the shelf behind him.

Her face close to his neck and ear, she quickly whispered a one sentence update on her patient, her lips almost brushing his skin as she spoke, the heat of her breath almost electric in its intensity, followed by the tiniest of caresses from her lips, and he believed, the very tip of her tongue as she finished.

Starbuck closed his eyes and breathed deeply, almost sighing, "Wow is right!" only to feel her fingertip on his lips, quietening him.

He opened his eyes again when he felt her drawing back, seeing her looking at him questioningly. He had just enough time to half raise a questioning eyebrow in return before she was back, melding her lips against his hungrily, exploring, returning the passion she'd experienced from him just a couple of centons earlier.

It was then Starbuck's turn to loose a low moan as she broke off again, once more giving him that playful smile and look again, before she whispered, "Only about a centon left. Are you...really...really...sure about that time?"

He grinned back at her for just a micron before moving back toward her waiting lips. "Mmmm, when you put it like that, we'll make it three more centons. I'll run…."

'***


	13. Part 13-Chapter 13-The Final Chapter

**_Closing note:_**

 _This is the final chapter of "The Rescue". Thank you for taking the time to read this story. I really hope you enjoyed it!_ ** _Please take a moment to leave a brief review with your thoughts about the story_** _._ _Special thanks to Artemis the Rebel for her great feedback on this story and for her encouragement while I've been writing Shore Leave, its follow-up. Such feedback is a big help to me as I continue writing upcoming storylines. If you're a Star Wars Rebels fan, please check out her excellent story, Ezra Lost, or one of her other stories._

 _Thanks again and happy reading!_

 _VST_

 _'***_

 **Chapter 13:**

A short time after Starbuck practically ran out of the medical bay, Jostine was still sleeping seemingly peacefully, but a bit of stirring movement brought Cassiopeia into the room to check her signs. "Guys, it looks like she's waking up. Jostine, can you hear me? How do you feel, dear?"

"Mmmn. Not dead," Jos muttered with one eye cracking open and a somewhat goofy looking grin that more than likely was completely unintentional. She raised an unsteady hand to her face and attempted to rub it but with her arm feeling about as steady as gelatin and her fingers feeling tingly, she ended up letting her arm flop back to the bed.

After giving her some water, massaging her hands and arms to help restore them to reasonable working order, and helping get some stray hairs out of her face, Cassie ran a few more diagnostic checks and said, "Okay, dear, you're looking very good and you'll be up and about in no time. For right now, though, you have some company, so I'm going to leave you in their good hands for a little while, and then you'll need to get some more rest. If you need anything, or if you get tired and need me to come in to kick them out, just press that little button right there, okay?"

Jostine nodded and stretched. Oh, it was so great to be alive, but by the Lords, it hurt so much! Then, she gingerly turned her head to see Ensign Walrach, her boyfriend, and Lieutenant Urdea, her foster dad, standing at the foot of the bed looking at her with nearly identical looks of concern.

"Okay, you two," she said, "I'd tell you to come up here and give me huge hugs but my chest hurts like Hades. And that's saying something, since I think I've actually been there!"

Walrach said, "The Med Tech told me to tell you he's sorry about that, and that you're going to be a little sore and definitely tender there for a few cycles."

Jostine nodded slightly, since even that hurt. With her head slowly clearing, she looked at the men and said, "Okay, I'm listening. You, boyfriend," pointing at Walrach, "have some serious explaining to do if you plan on keeping that title for any length of time. And Pops, can you massage my feet? They're starting to tingle like my hands and arms were."

Walrach, a bit red, looked at Urdea, who nodded to him as he started to massage her feet and lower legs. "Jos, it was a training exercise. Your Pops helped Captain Apollo and Lieutenant Starbuck set it up based on part of a real mission several yahrens ago…you know, before his accident. He saw that the Foundry Ship had a somewhat similar layout to the building where the original mission took place, and since the foundry part is shut down for now until we can resupply, it wasn't too hard to make it pretty similar to the original mission to see how you trainees would do. You were given the briefing that Urdea wrote based on his recollection of that mission and some info we found in the files, with a few modifications to match our conditions and what we had to do to make the mission work. Captain Apollo and Lieutenant Starbuck were there monitoring the whole thing from the control room."

Jos groaned, "No! They saw it, too? They'll never let me be a Warrior now!" She rubbed her hands together nervously. "The atmospheric entry through the turbulence? All those 'tough Cylons' and special modifications to our equipment? It was all fake?" she demanded, staring at him, as she started to feel a bit more like herself.

"Yeah, pretty much. The drop ship pilots had fun with that! Don't know if you noticed, but the Cylons never moved except for their arms-Sergeant Greenbean had several Warriors operating them and their weapons by remote control. As for the special modifications, that was actually real, but not quite like you were told. You see, we had the armorers basically depower all your weapons so you wouldn't destroy all the foundry equipment!" He looked at her with concern and added, "This is the third time the exercise has been run, but nothing like this has ever happened before."

"So just what happened to me?" she asked, barely above a whisper since anything louder seemed to hurt more. With an attempt at a grin, she added, "Surely you're not supposed to kill your trainees if it's just a training mission?"

Urdea, having finished with the foot massage, held her arm on the other side of the bed, gave her a little squeeze, and said, "Jos, there's a sensor in your suit that was supposed to give you a little shock when it detects you've been hit by one of the really low power beams our fake Cylons were shooting. If it goes off, you're supposed to get a message from Lieutenant Starbuck or one of the other controllers on the Command channel that it's a training exercise and that your part of the mission is complete. He tells you to stay immobile in your current position as if you're dead so you don't give it away to the other trainees. Your system drops off the comm grid so the others think you're dead and they have to take up the slack. It usually works really well, but it didn't this time."

"Then Two and Six, Jent and Caden, aren't dead? Right?" she asked hopefully, looking back at Walrach.

He replied, "Right. No one died, Jos…well, except for you, and luckily we got you back! They, and the whole squad, sent their well wishes for you to get well soon. They all wanted to come by, but we told them to wait until next cycle so you can get some rest. Oh, and you're all sworn to secrecy so the next training team doesn't find out."

"Please thank them for me. And I swear. So what went wrong?" she asked.

"When you took the hit, your lifesigns disappeared completely. They weren't getting anything in the control room and couldn't reach you on the Command channel, so we had to terminate the exercise."

"Why Wally? What happened, and why did it happen to me?"

Urdea took the question since he'd had to explain it Walrach. "Jos, it seems that your suit didn't fit you very well so we think it got shifted around when you were rolling—I heard you did really well with that!—and the shock device must have gotten damaged, going from delivering the little shock that it's supposed to give to surprise you to a really huge one that we didn't even know it was capable of giving. Greenbean looked at it and sent that particular circuit to Electronics for corrections so it never happens again. Anyway, it stopped your heart for a while, or at least sent it into fibrillation so you weren't getting any blood flow. Walrach said the Med Tech tried hitting you with the paddles outside your suit while your squad was still on the crusher floor, but the Tech probably didn't think about the suit being designed to resist electric shock. At least one of the diagnostic sensor leads had come loose, too, so the defib didn't work on you."

Wally added, "When you didn't respond, I knew something was wrong, badly wrong, so I scooped you up and rushed you into the conditioned part of the ship. We got your helmet off, and you had no pulse and weren't breathing. We cut open your suit and the Med Tech hit you a second time with the direct shock from the defib unit. He said it got your heart back in the regular rhythm and, fortunately, you popped right back up right before he hit you again! He said if we had been just a few microns later..."

She bit her lip with watery eyes. "Thank you, Wally. So I could have been permanently dead instead of just dead for-what, just a centon or two?" Walrach nodded.

Stopping for a moment to think about what might have been gave Jos a brief shiver, but putting thoughts of eternal harp music and winged munchkins out of her mind, she finally looked at Urdea and asked quietly, "Pops, if this was a training mission based on a real mission, were there real guys actually captured that led to it? And did you rescue them?

Urdea nodded. "Yeah, two excellent Warriors, two good friends of mine, though none of us ever knew Hamm's real name. And yes, we went in there, kicked Cylon butt, and got them out. It was tough...really tough...but we did it." He paused, looking away, as if remembering.

"It was tough? Did...did you lose someone getting them back?"

He nodded, with a glint of tears now in his eyes. "Seven someones in our mission, and that was after three others in the first attempt. Ten good guys died saving them. I don't even remember how many wounded there were, though I think they all eventually recovered."

Jos was startled at the revelation. "Ten dead and a bunch hurt? For just two? Was that really worth it then?"

Urdea pondered silently, reflectively, for a moment more, then said, "Yes, it was expensive, but it was worth every bit. You see, Jos, when you're out there, in space, or on some hostile planet, or even on some dinky moon like that one, you want to believe that you're more than just yourself, that you're part of something bigger. You want to believe that...whenever your time comes to be in that horrible spot, when the Cylons are torturing you for the location of the fleet, when they're using you as a lab test animal as they apparently intended to do with my friends Trent and Hamm, or whatever, that someone will stand up for you, to at least try to bring you home. That way, you'll resist until the very end, with everything you've got, no matter what. We demonstrated that again that time, and every person there saw it and will remember it for as long as they live...though, I think I'm the only one left alive who was there."

"It just seems like such a steep price," she said, wincing.

"It was, Jos, but we paid them back for it, every last cubit. We destroyed their base, which was a bioweapons factory, and we think we got rid of all of their production and the alien equipment that they were trying to take. We even took a sample of the dispersible bioweapon agent that they'd been able to produce, and our scientists were able to develop a vaccine so if they're ever able to produce it again, it won't matter. As a result of that raid, we've all been inoculated against it so they won't be able to produce the death and destruction that they had planned. Someone even told me that we took a piece of the alien technology, but I never heard anything about it, so I'm not sure if that was true or if they were ever able to do anything with it if it was. In the end, yes, it was expensive-very expensive-but I think it was well worth it."

Jos was holding both their hands, and she looked from Wally to Urdea and back. "I hope that when my time comes, to be on whichever side, that I'll be able to do what it takes like all of you did, those captured and everyone who worked to save them. They all sound like great guys."

"Yes, they all were. The two we rescued are gone now, too, though. I think both of them were still assigned to the Atlantia and the First Fleet when it was destroyed at the so-called Peace Conference." He fell back into a reflective silence, thinking of those rescued, of those lost, and of the haunting eyes of all of the caged creatures that they had no way of rescuing. He fought back a tear as the others joined him in silent thought. They sat that way for a couple of centons, each contemplating on what had been said and what it meant to them.

Jos finally sqeezed both of their hands and said, "Thanks, Pops." He could see that she looked teary eyed and weary as well. A moment later, she added, "Uhm, do you mind excusing Wally and me for a centon?"

The thought of young love and life going on despite its many problems brought a smile back to his face. "Sure, Jos, I need to get back on duty anyway; I'm right in the middle of a case that seems to be threatening to become my life's work-if Colonel Tigh has anything to say about it! Have fun, kids, and get some rest, dear, so you can get well soon." Looking to Walrach, he added, "Catch you later, Ensign." They clasped hands, then Urdea gave Jos a little peck on the forehead and a whispered "Love you" and headed out. Jos smiled weakly as she watched Urdea depart, knowing that he cared for her as if she was his real daughter.

Cassie stepped back in just after Urdea left and tapped her wrist chrono indicating that it was getting late. Jostine flashed two fingers at her, and Cassie nodded with a smile, turning away to give the youngsters a last moment of privacy before Jostine's much-needed rest time. Jos turned slowly to Walrach and looked him squarely in the eyes. Speaking barely above a whisper, she said in a grim, determined voice, "And YOU…you were in on it? You knew about the whole fracking thing, even when you were laughing at me for losing my dinner on the way down to your so called moon?"

Following his rather contrite facial expression and nod, she glared at him for a moment with the most serious face she could make under the circumstances and then said, "You know you're really, seriously, going to pay for this, right?"

He grimaced and nodded again, as if in a very dark daggit house, filled with very deep dark daggit doo. Then Jos laughed, suppressing the pain in her chest, and said, with a twinkle in her eyes, "But not tonight. When this all started, I thought I was going to help rescue some of our Warriors, some brave heroes. You ended up rescuing me instead. Thank you Wally. You saved my life, and you're my personal hero. Now kiss me goodnight you big dummy!"

And, joyous that his girlfriend had been rescued and restored to life from her ordeal, he did.

The End

'***

 _ **One last note:** Thanks again for reading. My follow-up story, "Shore Leave", picks up shortly after this story ends. I hope you'll check it out._


End file.
